Our Little Bubble
by RinseRepeat
Summary: After a traumatic encounter with a villain when he was just a young boy, Ochimaru dreams of being a hero despite his lacklustre Quirk. After convincing his overprotective parents to let him attend Koushujin Hero Institute, he finally gets a chance to make friends and follow that dream. However, he soon gets entangled once again in the strange abductions that plague southern Japan.
1. Prologue - Abduction

Ochimaru pressed his face into the cold glass of the shop window to try and get a better look at the myriad of colourful toys that had been put out on display. His fuchsia eyes glittered with child-like wonder as he marvelled at all the plastic figurines, price-tags dangling off of their muscled arms. He ignored the complicated numbers to look at the newest series of pro hero figurines, his young mind racing to decide which one he should spend his birthday money on. All Might, the Symbol of Peace, stared back at him with a painted, shining smile and a hand outstretched, beckoning to the wallet that was haphazardly sticking out of his pocket. He slowly fumbled with its zipper to make sure that he had enough money for the purchase. He didn't want to upset the number one hero by coming up short.

"O-chan!" his mother called, her tone soft but impatient. "Mummy and Daddy have a few things they need to buy first before we take you in there."

He turned his attention away from the figurines with a pout that puffed out his rosy cheeks, leaving a foggy imprint of his breath upon the window. He stared up at his towering parents with defiance as he planted his small shoes back on the ground, an open wallet still grasped tightly in his tiny hands. His mother placed a hand on her thin waist disapprovingly while his father stared on with tired indifference. It was _his_ birthday, so he shouldn't have to go around and look at all the boring things his parents wanted to buy first.

"We'll come back here at the end," she stated firmly, avoiding her son's infamous gaze.

She held out an expectant hand, and Ochimaru had no choice but to stalk over and grab it with a frown. He was smart enough to know that his patience would eventually be rewarded, but his mother would always spend hours meandering around every shop while he stood around by her side with sore feet. He gave a final, wistful look at the toy shop and its treasures within before dejectedly making his way across the street with his parents.

It took the fourth shop without a break and an argument over which new toaster to buy before Ochimaru's attention finally wavered. While his parents were busy shouting over each other and comparing prices, he crept away unnoticed to find something a little more interesting to do. He dove between aisles and hid behind stacked boxes, turning the home supply shop into a sprawling metropolis infested with villains that had to be brought to justice. He knew better than to use his Quirk in public, but he had a wild enough imagination that it didn't matter. He was fighting alongside All Might, cheering as he sent a group of villains packing with just a single punch.

It wasn't long before he found himself standing outside the shop his parents were in, staring into a crowd of bustling shoppers. He had once been scolded for running out of a shop on his own, so it was better to stay inside the quiet shop until they were finished arguing. Before he could continue his elaborate game elsewhere, a smiling man wearing bright, flashy clothes and a strange headband approached him with confidence. His fancy suit was a garish yellow, making him look a human banana wearing a crisp, black tie. His whole outfit sparkled with an impeccably polished sheen. He reminded Ochimaru of the people who would stop his parents inside the shopping centre and ask them to donate to a charity. He was at a loss for words without either of them by his side.

"Hi there Ochimaru!" he grinned, kneeling down to the young boy's level. His teeth were perfectly straight and white, almost too bright to look at in the afternoon sun.

The man acted like they had met before, but Ochimaru had no idea who he was. His parents would often invite the whole neighbourhood over for parties or summer barbecues, so random adults talking to him wasn't entirely out of the ordinary, but it had never happened in public before. They were at a shopping centre right in the heart of Kagoshima, so it would have been an unbelievable coincidence to meet one of their neighbours here. Too frightened to move a muscle, he gave the man an awkward, stunned smile in return.

"My name's Hayato," he began, searching the young boy's eyes as if he was expecting sudden recognition. "You probably don't remember me all that well, but I'm one of your dad's old friends. You've gotten so big I almost didn't recognise you!"

That name did sound familiar, and his dad worked with loads of important people who would wear suits a lot, although they were usually dull colours like black or grey. It was still strange that this man was talking to him out of the blue, but the mention of his dad quelled his rising unease. He certainly didn't look like a bad person, so Ochimaru relaxed somewhat now that the man had introduced himself.

"It's my seventh birthday today!" he replied proudly, eager to impress one of his dad's friends.

"Wow, old enough to be sneaking away from your parents already?" he laughed, clasping the boy's shoulder with a gentle hand.

"Well, all they do is look at boring stuff," he admitted guiltily, gaze falling to the floor beneath the man's well-polished shoes. "I have to wait until the end before I can get a toy."

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna tell on you," Hayato reassured, swiftly standing back up to his full height. He became a lot more intimidating when he was standing up straight. "In fact, since it's your birthday, how about we go and pick out a present together? I've gotta make up for some of your birthday's I've missed."

"Really?" Ochimaru asked, eyes wide in excitement.

"Yeah, you like those pro hero figurines, right?" he grinned, waving his hefty wallet. "I heard they just brought out a whole new series of them the other day."

Ochimaru's heart leapt at the chance to finally enter the toy shop at the other end of the shopping centre. Getting a toy with Hayato meant that he could spend his own birthday money on something else, and then maybe he could go home with two hero figurines. Plus, he probably wouldn't get in trouble since he was with an adult his parents knew. He gave his new friend a toothy grin while nodding vigorously. Hayato offered one of his neatly-manicured hands and the two set off into the bustling crowd, leaving Ochimaru's parents behind, who were already descending into panic.

They walked through the shopping centre in silence as Ochimaru looked at all the various stalls and bright mascots, Hayato even stopping to buy the young boy an ice cream cone. Licking away at the vanilla swirl, Ochimaru began to think more clearly about what was happening and began to feel incredibly unsettled. His mother had once warned him that there were some strangers who would try to act friendly, even buy him nice things, but would turn out to be bad people. The man had never said his parent's names, so how could he be sure that he wasn't lying? He risked a glance up at the man, who was only looking forwards with a serious, stern expression.

The familiar toy shop finally came into view after a few more minutes, shining like a lighthouse, which calmed the boy's worries. He saw no reason why Hayato would lie about buying him a present, and it didn't make sense that he would somehow know it was his birthday if he was a complete stranger. His excitement began to grow once more as they neared the shop, and he couldn't help but grip Hayato's hand like a vice. He couldn't wait to show his parents the All Might figurine.

Just as his impatience reached its peak, they suddenly stopped a few buildings away from the toy shop. Confused, Ochimaru was about to ask what was wrong before his voice died slowly in his throat, fizzling out into nothing but a weak whimper. Hayato was staring directly at him, his face pale and emotionless, like a corpse. The man's terrifying visage sent a shiver trickling down his spine, and he fully realised the mistake that he had made right at that moment. If he could just call for help, maybe a hero would come and save him!

Without warning, Hayato suddenly slammed one of his hands against Ochimaru's mouth to keep him from screaming. He silently ducked into a deserted alleyway, quickly checking if there had been any witnesses. The young boy struggled and kicked as he was dragged along the black, dirtied pathway, his eyes wide in frantic horror. His muffled cries fell on deaf ears as his teeth scraped against the hand of his abductor. An idling car sat at the end of the alley with one of its back doors open, spewing cloudy fumes from its exhaust high into the air.

Instinctively, he activated his Quirk as it was his last chance to escape. His mother had explained to him over and over again that he should only use it if he was in danger, as he wouldn't get in trouble from the police. He concentrated hard despite the frightening circumstances, and a pink, soapy froth began to ooze its way from the pores in his hands. Producing a slippery liquid wasn't the most impressive Quirk, but he had never been more thankful for it as he managed to wriggle out of his abductor's grasp. The man's grip loosed as they were both covered in the fragrant lather. Hayato swore and grabbed him by the shirt before he could struggle free any further, the soft fabric tearing as he writhed from side to side.

"Good thing I already know everything about your Quirk," Hayato coldly mused, leaning down to stare into Ochimaru's terrified eyes with morbid fascination. "You probably had a chance of escaping from me if I was unprepared."

Tears began to sting at the young boy's eyes as he felt his heart slide up and sit like a stone in his throat. He had never experienced a fear so potent in his short life as he was quickly coming to terms that this man was going to steal him away from his parents. If he had just stayed with them instead of sneaking away by himself, he wouldn't be fighting for his life. Despite his struggling, Hayato could easily carry him towards the car where another man sat behind the wheel, face covered with a black mask.

"Let go of that child!"

Suddenly, before Ochimaru even had a chance to blink, a figure descended from the sky and landed right in front of the two with a practiced flourish. His arms were bare and scarred, and he had wild, ashen black hair that was long enough to obscure his eyes. He was blocking the path towards the vehicle protectively, and Ochimaru didn't have to look any further to recognise that it was Cinder, the Smouldering Ash Hero. His black costume had become iconic to the people of southern Japan, and even though he was nowhere near the level of others like All Might, he was popular enough to have his own fans and merchandise.

"You heroes never make this easy," Hayato growled, wrapping an arm around Ochimaru's neck in an attempt to keep him away from the pro hero. "Always making sudden arrivals."

Not even offering a response, Cinder sped forward with almost superhuman speed and struck Hayato squarely in the jaw before activating his impressive Quirk. One of his arms suddenly lit up with dim orange flames, his skin turning black and flaky as it slowly burned to a crisp. Thick grey smoke emanated from the hero's smouldering arm which swiftly covered the area in a hot blanket of ash, blinding both Ochimaru and his abductor. The young boy knew to hold his breath as the warm smoke caressed his face, leaving trails of glowing ash in its wake. He felt Hayato's grip on his neck loosen, and he was eventually freed by a strong arm, falling to the ground painfully, scuffing his hands and knees.

He opened his eyes and inhaled again as Cinder carried him away from his abductor, prioritising his rescue over capturing the weakened villain right in front of him. Cinder set the young boy down gently and gave him a triumphant, reassuring smile as his ashy smoke billowed away behind him, trapping Hayato inside. Ochimaru could hear pained, laboured coughs as the man tried his best to navigate his way through the burning ash, his lungs no doubt filling with the dangerous, polluting smoke.

"Stay right here," Cinder rasped, his voice hoarse and gravelly. "You're safe for now."

Tears streamed down Ochimaru's reddened face, mixing with the hot ash and creating murky drops at his feet. It had always been a dream of his to see a pro hero in action, but he had never imagined that it would be because he needed saving. The young boy openly wept with gratitude and relief as Cinder checked him over for any injuries, confidently letting his resilient smoke trap and hinder Hayato, who was quickly running out of oxygen. Cinder dabbed a clean rag at the young boy's knees, causing Ochimaru to wince in pain.

"I'm not done yet, hero!" Hayato screamed, his voice strained and muffled through the lingering smoke.

Cinder finally turned around to face the smoke before a loud, harsh _boom_ echoed its way throughout the cramped alleyway, making the young boy's ears ring. Ochimaru recoiled in fear from the ear-splitting sound before witnessing Cinder stumble backwards in a stunned silence. Thick, maroon fluid openly seeped from his left shoulder as he clutched at his arm, wheezing in surprise. The smoke finally began to clear as Hayato came into view, his entire body caked in searing ash, his arm trembling as he held a shaking pistol towards the pro hero. His eyes were wild with a fervent determination to take the hero's life.

"Leave it!" a deep voice called from the vehicle. The man in the black mask was hanging out of the window, coughing violently from the smoke. "It's not worth it anymore!"

Hayato froze, considering his options, looking down upon an incapacitated Cinder with disgust. The hero's Quirk was still activated, spewing fresh blankets of smoke across the ground from his charred, burning arm. His eyes flashed towards Ochimaru with a villainous desire before he turned his back and stomped over to the idle car. The man in the mask rolled his eyes before similarly rolling his window back up, Hayato slamming the back door like a child in a tantrum before the car began to speed off, retreating out of sight.

"Cinder, the villains!" Ochimaru cried, too frightened to move from his huddled pose on the ground, safe from the encroaching smoke for only a few seconds longer.

"Your safety is more important," the pro hero seethed, taking a moment to wallow in the pain of the gunshot wound before standing back up.

"What about you?" Ochimaru asked, concerned about the blood specked across the area.

"Bullet just grazed my shoulder," he replied, trying his best to put on a brave face for the small child. "Should've been more careful… I didn't expect him to have a gun."

Cinder deactivated his Quirk with a stretch of his arm, the blackened texture of his skin slowly fading back to pinkish scar tissue as the smoke dissipated high into the air. The entire alleyway was covered with ash, some patches still glowing orange or white as the last of the embers died out. Ochimaru knew the pro hero's Smoulder Quirk was impressive, but it was an entirely different story up close. Cinder's damaged skin was indicative of just how hot the ashes could burn, but it also showed his weathered experience as a hero despite his relatively young age. Noticing the admiration in the young boy's wide eyes, Cinder laughed and kneeled down, careful to shield the bloody bullet wound from his view.

"I guess I've gotta be the one to take you back to your family, huh?" He smiled, extending a dirtied, scarred hand to the shaken boy. "Do you remember where they last were?"

Ochimaru looked at the damaged hand for a second before cautiously wrapping his small fingers around it and nodding, getting pulled to his feet quickly by Cinder's impressive strength. His knees were weak and the ordeal he had been through left him feeling sick and dizzy, but he was safe. Under the pro hero's protective grasp, the two made their way out of the alley and received countless concerned stares from the crowd of citizens that had gathered. Some were taking pictures, some were phoning the police, and a chorus of cheers erupted as Cinder heroically waved his damaged arm, fist clenched in a display of strength.

"You'll probably make the local news tonight," he smiled, trying to lighten the mood and put a smile on the traumatised child's face.

"My mum and dad will be really angry with me," Ochimaru replied, sullen.

"I think they'll just be glad to see that you're safe," he said, squeezing the boy's hand reassuringly. "I'll explain everything to them, so there's no need to worry about it."

Just a few minutes later, Ochimaru was reunited with his distraught parents. His mother pulled him into a spine-crushing hug as she sobbed, squeezing the air from his lungs. She ruffled at his blonde hair that been dyed a sooty black from Cinder's ashes before planting a loving kiss on his stained cheek. Her elaborate makeup was in ruins and her hair was a mess, and he felt incredibly guilty for making her worry so much. Cinder explained the circumstances to his father, and not long after that, the police cars and ambulances came roaring down the street outside of the shopping centre. What started as a peaceful day of shopping on his seventh birthday ended with him being interviewed about the man in the strange yellow suit who had tried to abduct him in broad daylight.

Just before the shopping centre closed for the day, after a lengthy lecture from his parents, he was finally allowed to pick out a toy for his birthday. He stood at the display cabinet for what seemed like hours, until he eventually decided on a hero figurine that shocked even his parents. Previously, All Might had been his favourite pro hero, much like other boys his age, but it just so happened that one of the heroes included in the newest series of figurines was the one who saved him. Shotaro Kemushiba, more commonly known by his hero alias, Cinder the Smouldering Ash Hero, stood far behind the All Might figurine with a stoic expression. His arms would even glow orange when you pressed a button on his back.

Running up to the counter with his birthday money, it only took a few seconds before he owned what would go on to be his most treasured possession. Cinder left with the ambulances long before Ochimaru purchased the figure, and he was disappointed that he couldn't show his saviour what he had bought. His parents told him they would help him write a letter to the hero that saved his life and that he could include a photo of it, which was enough to take his mind off of the traumatic experience he had endured for a short time.

Years later, he would learn that he was a target of a Quirk trafficking ring, where villains would kidnap children or vulnerable teenagers with potentially powerful Quirks and extract them through currently unknown means. The same Quirk would then often appear on the black market for an insanely high price, purchased by wealthy, untraceable buyers. The victims would then be left in the area they were abducted from with foggy memories, their Quirks removed with no sign of them returning. If Cinder hadn't stepped in and saved him, he would have just been the latest victim of the elusive group. News report after news report would be aired featuring kids who were less lucky than him, cursed to be Quirkless for the rest of their lives. It got to the point where Ochimaru would avoid watching television as it would remind him of that awful seventh birthday.

But, it also sparked his undying admiration for pro heroes far beyond just enjoying reading about them on the internet or collecting their figurines. His experience that day left him wanting to repay Shotaro Kemushiba and to hopefully even save children like him one day. Researching hero schools that would train others to be professional heroes replaced collecting figurines, and he made it his goal to protect Japan with his Quirk, like so many heroes had done before him.

He would just have to convince his overprotective parents first.

* * *

 **Author's Note:  
** And with that short prologue, I welcome you to Our Little Bubble, which I'll often awkwardly abbreviate to OLB! This is the first fanfic I've published in a long while, and by far the one I've put the most work into. I hope you enjoy this story and the horde of original characters I've created once we actually get to see more of them. Ochimaru might be the protagonist, but that doesn't mean the spotlight will be shining on him for every single chapter. I don't want to go into too much detail because we'll soon reach spoiler territory, but I have a whole ragtag gang of misfits that we'll slowly meet across these first few chapters.

For the record, the characters that appear in the anime and manga will not be featured in this fanfic aside from small references and mentions – like the All Might figurine. I know that some people enjoy that kind of thing, but I feel like sticking too heavily to the source material limits my creativity. The hero school setting is enough of a similarity. Plus, I don't think I'm good enough to write any of Horikoshi's characters properly.

I won't be doing Author's Notes all that often unless I have important announcements. If you take a read through my profile, I have a list of social media that I use like the tumblr account dedicated to this particular story. I'll be posting a whole load of stuff there like answers to submitted questions, character profiles and small updates about the writing process. My profile also explains a bunch of other stuff like my rough chapter posting schedule.

Just so you all know, this fanfic will have some pretty harsh language and mature themes throughout, especially in the much later chapters. Things will get pretty dark in the future.

Thanks for reading the beginning of a story that exceeded my own expectations. It'll be a wild ride!


	2. Base of the Mountain

"I want to be a hero."

The first time Ochimaru uttered those words at the dinner table, he was met with a pair of wide eyes and the sharp sound of cutlery clattering against the kitchen floor. It was followed by a painful, awkward silence that made him regret he had ever opened his mouth. They had been enjoying a peaceful meal together as a family, but with just a simple sentence the room had suddenly shifted into a tense standoff. His mother and father traded worried glances, like they had been planning for this day ever since the young boy's traumatic experience a couple years prior. They quickly attempted to change the subject to just how perfectly the cabbage had been boiled, leaving their son confused and embarrassed.

He didn't mention anything related to heroes for an entire year after that.

The next time that he tried was on his tenth birthday, right after he had blown out the candles on his lavish cake. To his surprise, instead of the simple ones that his parents would usually buy, this one had the iconic red, white and blue design that so many kids loved. All Might's confident smile in the form of white icing twinkled up at him, causing his heart to swell up with deep admiration and excitement. To him, this cake was a sign that his parents were finally coming around to the idea of pro heroes after the incident. And so, spurred on by the image of one of his role models, he decided to give it another try.

"O-chan, did you make a wish?" his mother cooed, right after a flash of light from her digital camera blinded him and made the room turn fuzzy.

"I wished to become a hero!"

Even though you were never supposed to tell other people your wish in fear that it wouldn't come true, he just couldn't wait any longer. It was his birthday, so surely his parents wouldn't give him the same look that they had at the dinner table on that awkward night. He was met with considerably less silence than before, but his parents still tried to direct his attention away from his wish and onto all the lovingly wrapped presents next to him. So, again, he dropped the subject without any further hassle.

As a child, he never understood why his parents were so wary of heroes, even after he was almost abducted by a villain. To him, heroes were the sole reason he was saved that day and should be praised, but as he matured and watched news stories about villains massacring civilians in the streets and heroes dying in the line of duty, he slowly came to understand. It was a dangerous profession, not unlike that of a policeman or firefighter. An innocent child only thinks of All Might's confident smile and all the bad guys he brings to justice, not the rookie heroes who get snuffed out before they have a chance to shine.

When he entered his teenage years and began to finish junior high, his parents would finally indulge him in conversations about heroes and Quirks. They were still hesitant, but at least the subject wasn't outright ignored beyond the basics like it was when he was a child. All of his confident classmates had already planned to go off to prestigious hero schools, like U.A or Shiketsu, but he couldn't go and make a decision like that because of his parents. He was always told that he was going to continue the family soap business, and to some extent, he eventually believed that. He was almost ready to give up on his dream of being a hero.

But then, he was given 'the talk'. It didn't contain anything that he didn't already know, like how difficult hero training would be, or how he would have to move away and live in a dormitory with a bunch of strangers. His parents spent hours and hours going over every aspect that could deter him from the profession, like they were somehow hoping that he would give up on his dream after so long, but that was obviously in vain. All of the old, battered hero figurines he still treasured should have made that immediately obvious. After they had exhausted all options, he couldn't help but grin at them when they asked if he would like to join a hero school instead of going off to high school.

He was just thankful that they weren't going to stop him from taking the entrance exam. He was given the ultimatum that if he somehow passed the gruelling test, he could attend the school like he wished, but if he failed – he was to give up on the dream and live a normal life. It was the only way his parents would ever let him attend, so he agreed to their deal with reluctance. Koushujin Hero Institute wasn't the most popular hero school, but it was one of the best that southern Japan had to offer. It was also the only one that his parents allowed him to apply for, since most southern cities saw such a lower crime rate compared to more urban places like Tokyo or Shibuya, and it was just a short train ride away from home. All he had to do now was convince them not to visit the dorm every weekend.

He had been coddled and steered away from the idea of pro heroes for his entire life after his seventh birthday, but now he had a chance to prove that all those years spent dreaming weren't for nothing. He did feel bad for how scared and worried his parents were, but life was all about taking risks. His Quirk was hardly anything special, and his junior high school didn't highlight any strengths that would make him a good pro hero, but that was exactly why he wanted to be one. Maybe he could inspire other lacklustre kids who had overly protective parents to become heroes. Anything was better than hiding away indoors.

He wasn't going to be the next All Might, and his hero training probably wouldn't be that glamorous or ultimately important to the world, but that was _okay_. He was just glad to finally be a part of something after being cooped up inside for his own safety for so long.

* * *

Ochimaru let out a shaky sigh as he pressed the ice-cold can of juice to his forehead. Small droplets of liquid relief trickled their way down his smooth skin as his eyes closed in bliss. He revelled in the sensation of the chilly aluminium as it gave him a short respite from the heat of the early spring morning. Even though it was only a couple months into the year, Kagoshima's humid weather was already unbearable. He had curled up in the cool shade of the vending machine to escape the heat, but it still felt like lying on the surface of the sun.

He had no clue why Koushujin decided to hold their entrance exam on one of the hottest weeks ever recorded in Japan. He was already sweating profusely under the thinnest tank top he owned. It was only going to get worse as the day progressed. He squinted up at the blazing sun that was lazily trailing its way across the pristine, cloudless sky and hoped that most of the exam would take place in a gymnasium with air-conditioning. It should be considered torture to stick a bunch of teenagers together in a sweaty room for hours on end.

"You actually gonna drink that, or are you just leaving it there 'till you get brain freeze?"

The sudden, deep voice quickly snapped him back to reality. His tired, crusty eyes shot open at the realisation that he was still waiting for the train to Koushujin. His parents would always incessantly scold him for daydreaming or dozing off in public when he was a child. Apparently, he still hadn't grown out of the habit. He had arrived at the quiet station far earlier than intended because he was nervous, so he saw no harm in buying a drink and relaxing a little. His sluggish mind and fraying nerves could certainly use a rest.

He glanced over to find a boy who looked roughly his age, wearing an equally breezy attire. He was leaning on a green, metallic bench and fanning at his face with a crumpled pamphlet, the fringe of his plum-coloured hair matted messily to his forehead. Strange, unnatural hair colours were common nowadays as Quirks evolved and wreaked havoc with all sorts of different genes, but such a dark, royal purple was still a rare sight. Ochimaru felt his face grow even hotter under the intense heat as he quickly scrambled off the ground. He couldn't believe that he was caught doing something so embarrassing. He thought the train station would be empty this early in the morning.

"Uh, fizzy juice doesn't really sit well with me because of my Quirk," he stuttered, immediately flustered at how silly that reason sounded when it left his lips. "I was just going to use it to cool off a bit until the train arrives."

"Wish I had thought of that," the boy chuckled, a bead of sweat dripping from the tip of his nose as he laughed. "This leaflet feels like it's about to catch on fire and then I'll be left without a fan."

Ochimaru's wandering eyes fell upon the piece of paper in question, and although it had been folded almost beyond recognition, he instantly spotted the bold, yellow logo he had seen so many times before. Koushujin's proud emblem was plastered across the front, and his interest in the talkative stranger peaked now that they had something in common. It was encouraging to run into someone else who was about to take the entrance exam.

"Are you waiting for the train to Koushujin?" he asked, fidgeting with the pull-tab on the can of juice he had bought earlier. "I couldn't help but notice the guidance leaflet."

"Those are some sharp eyes you've got there," he laughed again, seemingly in high spirits despite looking like he was about to collapse from the stifling heat. "I never thought I'd meet another potential student before I'd even reached the institute."

Ochimaru's shoulders slackened slightly as he smiled at the boy. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before as the looming exam had put him on edge. It was common knowledge that entrance exams for prestigious hero schools were always difficult, and only a small percentage of participants ever actually went on to study at the school they applied for. It eased his mind a little now that he was talking to someone going to the same school, and the cheery boy looked friendly enough. Perhaps the whole thing wouldn't be too bad after all.

"Oh, excuse me – I should introduce myself," he bowed, trying not to forget the manners that his father spent so long teaching him." I'm Ochimaru Kawadatsu. It's nice to meet you."

"The name's Youta Kaneyama," he grinned, folding the leaflet into one of his blue pockets. Dark circles sat below his eyes, and he covered a yawn with the palm of his hand. His knuckles were red and bruised, like he had just recently punched a hard surface. "Likewise."

He straightened himself again and took a deep breath. He had never been good with introductions, especially not with people who were around the same age as him. That was one of the big drawbacks of not socialising for most of his teenage life. He would no doubt be meeting a lot of new people if he got accepted into Koushujin, all with their own eccentric personalities. He had better get accustomed to making a good first impression.

"You said that you can't handle fizzy drinks because of your Quirk, right?" Youta questioned , tapping at his chin thoughtfully. Ochimaru froze as the boy looked over with critical eyes. "I'm gonna guess that it's got something to do with carbonation or bubbles."

"That's actually a lot closer than what most people usually guess at first…" he responded, biting the inside of his cheek nervously. He didn't like being analysed so intensely.

"Is it something you can show to me right now?" he asked, a mischievous grin creeping across his face as his dark eyes suddenly lit up. He sat forward excitedly on the bench, pulling on the collar of his sleeveless shirt repeatedly to air it out. "A little last-minute Quirk practice before the exam can't hurt."

Ochimaru slowly scanned the corners of the train station just in case any stingy adults were waiting nearby. People had become a lot more relaxed about benign Quirk use in public over the years, but it was still technically something the police could charge you for if they were feeling particularly spiteful. Getting caught and fined on exam day wouldn't be good, but he couldn't turn down that eager grin coming from the applicant. Peer pressure was scary.

"Alright, we'll just have to make it quick before the train arrives," he replied with a sigh.

Under Youta's curious gaze, Ochimaru focused on breathing steadily as a familiar tingle danced around his palms and fingers. It always felt like someone was tickling them with an invisible feather. His parents had always said that breathing properly was the first thing to learn when using a Quirk, especially for Emitters like him. He finally raised his smooth hands after letting the fuzzy, tickling sensation build up for a few seconds longer.

Slowly, a pinkish, bubbling froth began to seep out from the pores in each of his hands. The soapy mixture sparkled in the intense sunlight, the tiny bubbles shining iridescently as they fluttered gently to the ground. The fragrant scent of lavender wafted through the hot, thick air as Ochimaru concentrated on keeping the stream of viscous lather flowing at a weak, steady pace. A layer of the oily soap coated his hands and began to crawl down his arms. He didn't want to exhaust his Quirk before they even reached the exam, so he finally balled his hands into fists to stem the flow of the strange, slippery mixture.

"Soap?" Youta puzzled, sounding almost disappointed as he peered down at the lacklustre puddle that was oozing across the train station platform.

He had grown accustomed to that look on people's faces, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of inferiority as Youta hurriedly tried to cover up his unenthused expression. He couldn't really blame other people for thinking that the Quirk wasn't very impressive. Producing soap from your hands didn't sound very useful for being a hero, but Ochimaru was slowly coming to terms with it. Being confident in your abilities was important, even if other people had better or flashier Quirks.

"Yup," he replied, staring down at the pink, soapy mess he had made. "I inherited the soap part from my mum, and then the bubbles come from my dad's side. They called it Lather."

Youta prodded at one of the larger, glimmering bubbles with a sandal and looked somewhat surprised when it didn't immediately pop underfoot. Ochimaru knew that the bubbles he produced were oddly resilient, almost like rubber, although it never mattered because they were so small and ineffectual. Youta nodded, looking only slightly more impressed than before. The soapy mixture began to evaporate and dry onto the searing stone slabs, eventually dissipating into nothing more than a dry, pink stain.

"Drinking anything carbonated makes the bubble part of the Quirk difficult to control, so I've pretty much sworn off everything like that now that I'll be tested on it," Ochimaru explained with his arms still outstretched, trying not to get soap all over his clothes. "I really love Ramune too, but I can only drink it when I'm planning on not using my Quirk for a couple of days afterwards."

"It's probably better for your overall health anyway," Youta chuckled, eyeing the can at Ochimaru's side slyly. "And hey, at least you'll never have to worry about running out of soap in the shower, right?"

"Yeah, our family saves a fortune," Ochimaru grinned, glad that they were able to joke about the Quirk light-heartedly. He was tired of people brushing it aside just because it wasn't very cool. It had a bunch of practical uses in daily life that people almost never considered, which made it a lot more beneficial than other complex Quirks he had seen in the past.

"Well, it'd be rude of me not to show off my Quirk after seeing yours."

Despite the nervousness Ochimaru felt at displaying his own Quirk, he couldn't deny his excitement at seeing Youta's. Even though they had become a natural aspect of society and treated like nothing special, he had always retained his child-like wonder at the endless possibilities that they possessed. He wondered what society was like a couple hundred years ago before the sudden, widespread genesis of Quirks. Daily life was probably really boring.

"You haven't given me any hints, so I can't really guess what yours is," Ochimaru smiled awkwardly, finally giving up and wiping his soapy hands haphazardly on the front of his shirt. He usually had a towel nearby when he was planning on using his Quirk, but his shirt would have to do for now until they arrived at Koushujin.

"Since you're not planning on drinking that can of juice, how about you put it on the ground and take a few steps backwards?" Youta smirked, cracking each one of his fingers loudly despite his bruised knuckles. His cocky smile meant that his Quirk had to be something impressive, or he was just incredibly overconfident of his own abilities.

Wary of the time they had before the train inevitably arrived, Ochimaru did as the boy commanded and placed the now lukewarm can on the ground next to the pink, soapy stain. He backed away, wondering just how dangerous Youta's Quirk could be. He hoped that he wouldn't be the one getting in trouble if it turned out the applicant could level an entire building without even lifting a finger. Such Quirks were rare but were the centre of incidents that had attracted the attention of the whole world.

Youta left his seat on the bench and sauntered over to the can before kneeling down. He cupped his steady hands to either side of the aluminium and attempted to press them together, like he was trying to crush the full can with nothing but strength alone. The seconds ticked by slowly, and Ochimaru wondered if the Quirk had even worked at all. Sometimes, at least for him, he couldn't produce soap no matter how hard he tried. Maybe the cocky applicant was just having an off-day.

Suddenly, Youta brought his hands away from the can. It immediately began to crack and shudder, like it was being crushed by some immense, invisible weight. Incredibly, the concrete platform of the train station split below the can as it began to press further and further into the ground. The thin aluminium buckled under its own weight until the can exploded, sending fizzy orange liquid spraying out in all directions, causing the two boys to burst out into laughter. Shreds of the brittle metal were pressed flat onto the ground until the can was no more than the width of a hockey puck. Ochimaru was reminded of those popular videos on the internet where people would crush various objects with a hydraulic press and watch the resulting carnage. Eventually, the extraordinary crushing force subsided, and the remnants of the can lay quiet and still, imbedded firmly into the platform.

"I can making things heavier just by touching them," he explained proudly, wiping away some of the juice that had splashed across his sandals. "It depends on the number of fingers that I use. Since I touched that can with a full ten, it got so heavy that it cracked the ground and couldn't support its own weight."

"Does a Quirk like that work on humans?" Ochimaru asked, feeling somewhat guilty of the mess they had caused in the train station. The janitor of this place would probably wonder how exactly a can managed to explode and lodge itself into the concrete

"Yeah, although not to the extent that it works on inanimate objects," Youta said, looking almost disappointed that he couldn't cause more havoc with the Quirk. "People are usually just pinned to the ground and can't stand back up again until the heaviness wears off."

Usually, Ochimaru would feel a small seed of envy sprout in his gut when people bragged about their Quirks, but for some reason it never happened with Youta. He was one of the only people in his life who gave him a real chance to show off his Quirk, as even his parents forbade its casual use whenever they were around. Even though they had only just met, Ochimaru couldn't help but look at the applicant as a new friend. He hoped that they both passed the entrance exam, so they could attend Koushujin together. Having someone with a strong Quirk on his side would definitely make his school life much easier.

Before the two boys could goof around with their Quirks any longer, the train rumbled into the station exactly on time. They both waited at the pristine doors with nervous excitement. Ochimaru didn't spot anyone through the foggy windows, so they could both easily sit in the most luxurious compartment before it filled up with other applicants as the train neared Koushujin. That was one benefit of living in the barren, farm-filled outskirts of Kagoshima.

Youta lead the way into the carriage with the most luxurious seats and legroom. He collapsed onto a row of seats with a heavy sigh, looking relieved that they were finally out of the blazing sun. The underarms of his grey tank top were damp with sweat, but he either didn't realise or didn't care. He cracked open the lid of a water bottle and chugged so hastily you'd think he had been stranded in the desert. It would take roughly fifteen minutes for the train to reach the school, so it gave them both a chance to rest and chat before the exam.

"So, any idea what we'll actually be doing at this exam?" Youta finally asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "The pamphlet was helpful with locations and times, but it didn't say anything about what we'd actually be tested on."

"Well, from what I could gather, I know that it'll be a practical exam rather than a written one, like most hero schools nowadays," Ochimaru replied, watching as the scenery of rolling hills and lonely trees zoomed by. "So, we'll get to show off our Quirks while completing some kind of task, then we're graded on our potential to become a future hero."

"Still kinda vague, don'tcha think?" Youta murmured, propping his feet up on the row of chairs opposite to him. "I'm just glad there's no bullshit test papers or revision. I learn more by actually doing things, not trying to remember dates and quotes, y'know?"

"I'm pretty bad at both," Ochimaru laughed guiltily. He felt comfortable enough to be honest around his new friend, and his parents had taught him that nothing good came from lying about your own abilities. "My exam results from junior high were just barely high enough to let me apply for hero training. Any lower and I would've been rejected outright."

"I'm sure we'll both make it through just fine," Youta grinned, stretching out his arms behind his head and closing his eyes nonchalantly. He seemed too relaxed for someone just about to sit an exam that would determine their whole future.

"Hopefully," he replied, unable to escape his deep-seated insecurity. He brushed a hand against the phone in his pocket absentmindedly, thinking of what his parents' reaction would be if he failed. Oddly, he could picture both of them being quite happy about it.

* * *

Ochimaru stepped out onto the station platform with Youta not too far behind. The hot Kagoshima air felt like a slap in the face and it almost knocked him back into the train. Through watery eyes, he spotted Koushujin's dazzling grounds not too far in the distance with a myriad of colourful students gathering around its entrance. Koushujin was infamous for its size and unique layout, with a sprawling cityscape on one side where all of the hero training took place, and a dense forest on the other side where the dormitories were nestled. The contrast between a natural and urban scene was definitely memorable. The main building looked like a corporate skyscraper, spiralling high up into the clouds like it was trying to reach into space. All of the crystalline, reflective glass made it hard to look at.

"The pamphlet did say that the train station would run right to the school's entrance," Youta began after an impressed whistle. "But I thought they were just exaggerating to make the place seem more appealing."

"It'll make travelling around the city a lot easier, that's for sure," he replied, trying to quell the nervous butterflies that were fluttering around in his stomach. He never did well in large crowds, especially before a big event like this one.

Ochimaru fell hesitantly behind Youta as they both walked towards the group of other applicants, passing through a huge ornate gate that officially marked Koushujin's entrance. The pathway underneath the well-polished, golden entrance was basked in a yellow sheen as the sun reflected off of the lavish surface. Hero schools made so much money that he wouldn't have been surprised if the gate was made out of real gold. He couldn't help but silently marvel at all the new faces as it was easily the biggest group of people he had seen since leaving junior high. Although Koushujin didn't see nearly as many applicants compered to more popular schools, there were still a hundred or so bright-eyed applicants of all shapes and sizes talking and laughing over each other. Some huddled under marble pillars that lined the stonework pathway for a bit of shade, while others embraced the weather and sunbathed leisurely on the school steps leading to the main building.

"You okay?" Youta asked, his face narrowing into a concerned frown once he noticed Ochimaru's pale, sickly complexion and wide eyes.

"Yeah, I just don't like big crowds," he replied with a grimace.

"Stick with me 'till the exam then," he smiled warmly. It looked much different than the wry, overconfident ones he was flashing earlier when displaying his Quirk. "There's still a few minutes 'till it hits nine."

It felt strange to have someone being so nice to him. Youta showed a level of concern for his wellbeing that Ochimaru had only seen from his family or pro heroes. He wondered if all potential hero candidates were this way, or just that Youta was an especially nice person. His rising nerves calmed somewhat as his new friend lead him through a crowd of particularly rowdy applicants to a place that was relatively quiet. He flinched slightly as a girl with wide sunglasses and hair that seemed to flow like water came dangerously close to elbowing him in the face. They came to a stop at a few wooden benches that were sat under the shade of two oak trees and a flowerbed filled with tall, proud sunflowers. They painted the area in a thick layer of pollen that tickled at his nose.

Rays of sunshine filtered down from the gaps in the branches they sat beneath as Youta took the opportunity to check his phone a final time before the exam. The touchscreen was cracked and split, and Ochimaru wondered if the boy had accidentally used his Quirk when typing and crushed the delicate screen. He somehow still understood the fragmented words underneath as he smirked slyly at the message. He replied with surprising speed and seemed to have multiple conversations going at the same time. Ochimaru was the complete opposite, his phone not having buzzed once since he left the house. Aside from his parents, nobody had messaged him since he finished junior high.

Not wanting to pry in his new friends' personal life, Ochimaru twiddled his thumbs nervously and watched the various students mill around the area. Some of their parents were also attending, hugging their children tightly as they struggled to break free in embarrassment. He was thankful that he lived far enough away from Koushujin as constant unwanted visits from his parents were something he didn't want to deal with. Occasional trips back home at the end of semester were more than enough, although he would miss his mother's homecooked meals every night. He barely even knew how to work a microwave.

Other applicants kept mostly to themselves, and he noticed a girl with a serpentine appearance glare maliciously at anyone who attempted to walk near her. There weren't that many people with Mutation Quirks at his old school, so he couldn't help but curiously stare at her slender, snake-like features. Her eyes were an artificial, shining amber, with pupils that looked like thin, black almonds. Her pale skin was without scales, but her head sat atop a long, swaying neck that bobbed and weaved as she leaned angrily against an oak tree. A pink, forked tongue periodically flicked from her mouth as she made her hostility clear.

Suddenly, her attention whipped right over to where Ochimaru was sitting. He couldn't even begin to look away in time, and their eyes inevitably met. She narrowed them even further as her neck straightened up to its incredible, full length. Even from a distance, she stood at a towering height that dwarfed every other oblivious applicant around her. She looked like a cobra trying to enlarge itself to intimidate its foe, and Ochimaru felt his blood run cold, like a prey animal staring at the jaws of its predator. Her mouth opened slightly, revealing needle-sharp fangs in a harsh warning before she looked away with a scowl. Without even saying anything, he had left a bad first impression. People probably stared at her all the time. He was privileged to have a relatively non-intrusive Quirk.

"Already blew a chance there, huh?" Youta chuckled, giving him a gentle nudge on the arm.

"I didn't mean to stare," he mumbled, tempted to just run back to the train station and take the entrance exam next year. "I've just never seen someone with such an animalistic Quirk."

"Really?" Youta questioned incredulously, losing interest in the messages flooding in from his shattered phone. "There's a guy who lives on my street with a Quirk that makes him look like a shark, with fins and scales and everything. They're pretty common nowadays."

"I don't really go outside very much, so it's my first time seeing a lot of this stuff." Ochimaru replied, trying his best to keep his gaze far away from the girl with the snake Quirk. He wished that they would never have to meet again, and he could forget that it ever happened.

"Parents?" he asked with surprising intuition.

"Parents," Ochimaru parroted with a sigh.

"Tough one," he consoled. "My folks are the exact opposite. I could move away to a new country and it'd take them a week to figure out anything had changed."

Ochimaru fell silent, not exactly wanting to spill all of his feelings about his troubled family life just yet. Youta sensed the delicate subject and turned his attention back to his phone. It wasn't long before even more applicants gathered around the area as the minutes ticked by, some nervously stretching and performing warm-up exercises in the excruciating heat. He just hoped that the exam would consist of working alongside other applicants rather than competing against them. He wasn't in the best shape physically compared to most other people around him, so he was already at a natural disadvantage. He spotted a girl who had to be the same age as him but had an insanely muscled, Olympian physique. She could probably knock him out with a single punch. The fact that Koushujin was being intentionally secretive about the contents of the entire exam put him on edge too.

To add to his rising dread, a blaring alarm echoed its way across the courtyard until all of the loud, curious applicants eventually stopped chatting. Some even covered their ears in annoyance at the shrill sound. The two boys frantically looked around for its source until they found a woman standing atop the stairway that lead into Koushujin's main building, holding a large, bright-red megaphone. Her black hair was tied back in a tight, professional ponytail and she wore a navy-blue business suit which only added to her mature, intimidating aura. From his research on the school and some of its staff, Ochimaru knew this woman had to be Misato Urekana, the head of General Studies, and one of the few teachers not to be directly known for their hero work in the past.

"Attention all Koushujin applicants!" She yelled, her powerful voice managing to command the attention of the entire courtyard even without the obnoxious megaphone. "Line up in an orderly fashion and follow me into the exam venue!"

"Well, this is it," Youta grinned while tucking his phone away. "Seeya on the other side."

Ochimaru nodded and took a deep breath of hot air, watching as all of the applicants scrambled to stand and wait nervously on the wide stone steps. This was the day that would decide his entire future, for better or for worse. He would either walk out a potential hero or a complete failure depending on his performance. He couldn't help but tremble from the intense pressure, but he tricked himself into standing up confidently alongside Youta and joined the others. Even being near the other applicants was enough to set off his anxiety.

Hopefully, things would go well, and he could tell his parents he was on the path of a hero.


	3. Koushujin Entrance Exam

"Welcome to the Hero Simulation Area."

Misato finally came to a stop in front of a massive gate that dwarfed every other building Ochimaru had ever seen before. It was almost like the Great Wall of China had suddenly uprooted itself and moved to Japan, and no matter where he looked, the giant structure didn't seem to end, blotting out the sun and shrouding the entire forest around them in shadow. Every single applicant fell silent as they stared at the gate in disbelief. He was expecting the practical test to take place in some stuffy exam hall in an unused classroom, but instead he was faced with some sort of humungous arena. He had heard that Koushujin's grounds were almost unending, and it had taken over half an hour just to walk to the exam venue. His feet were screaming at him already and the exam hadn't even started yet.

"Beyond this gate is the location where all practical lessons and exams take place," she began, gesturing half-heartedly towards the arena with a clipboard as if it wasn't anything special. "It is comparable to a modest city in size and appearance, populated with various buildings and structures that mimic urban environments that pro heroes face every day."

"Damn," Youta whistled. "It's basically like a mini-Kagoshima squashed inside of a school."

"Correct, Kaneyama-kun," she responded, somehow having heard the applicant's hushed whispers. She secretively scribbled something on her clipboard and peered at the boy over the rim of her glasses. "Kagoshima was used as the template."

Youta gave the teacher an embarrassed smile as he took a few meagre steps backwards. Apparently, each applicant was being evaluated on some sort of hidden criteria outside of the exam. Ochimaru straightened his posture and cleared his throat as a wave of concerned murmurs erupted from the crowd of teenagers. He had no clue how Misato managed to keep track of a hundred applicants and remember their names as if they were already a part of the school. Her Quirk wasn't described on the faculty list, but he wouldn't have been surprised if it had something to do with intelligence.

"Before the practical test begins, I will explain what will be expected of you within these walls!" Misato yelled, vigorously flipping through the notebook on her clipboard to find some sort of rulebook for the exam. Ochimaru was feeling more and more nervous with each passing page. "It is imperative that you listen well, or else your performance and consideration of your enrolment may be negatively affected."

"Koushujin's entrance exam consists of a 'treasure hunt' that is designed to test individual ingenuity, physical aptitude and quirk efficacy," she began, twirling a fountain pen skilfully between her deft fingers. "Hidden within the Hero Simulation area are egg-shaped objects of various different sizes and colours. White eggs are worth five points and are the most plentiful, bronze eggs are worth ten points and are slightly harder to procure, silver eggs are worth twenty points and often require considerable effort to obtain, and finally, golden eggs are worth fifty points but are extremely difficult to come across and protect."

"Your admission into Koushujin is directly related to many points you bring back to the entrance by the end of the exam!" she shouted, gesturing to a bench filled with large, metallic egg baskets. "The exam will last for exactly two hours, at the end of which you will hear an alarm that signals your return to the entrance."

"This is fuckin' crazy," Youta whispered, cupping his hand to Ochimaru's ear. "Maybe a written exam would have been better after all."

"Perhaps the most important rule of the exam is that combat between potential students is allowed and encouraged," Misato smiled, attempting to maintain a professional expression despite her joy at seeing the applicant's shocked, uneasy faces. "While eggs can be found all across the city, stealing eggs from other applicants is a viable strategy that should not be underestimated. This exam is essentially a balancing act where you must collect as many points as you can while protecting your basket from any attackers. Collecting more points makes you more of a target."

"Exactly the thing I was afraid of," Ochimaru sighed, disappointed that his worst fear was being realised. A cooperative, friendly exam at a hero school was practically unheard of.

"Of course, there are limits to the level of combat we are willing to accept." Misato warned, her eyes suddenly turning frighteningly fierce behind her glasses. "Blindly attacking students no matter their point value will be seen as cruelty and may result in disqualification, and purposefully causing more harm than is necessary will also have the same consequences."

"Excuse me, Urekana-sensei…" a brown-haired applicant began, looking visibly shaken at the mention of combat. "What if our Quirks are not necessarily suited to fighting?"

"Not to worry, Minokosu-kun," she replied. "The final feature of the exam allows for choice depending on the capabilities of the applicant. In the centre of the Hero Simulation Area lies a large, spherical statue which contains a myriad of eggs, mostly of the bronze and silver variety. A single, elusive golden egg is also hidden within, although it must be located amongst all of the other eggs first. Whoever manages to break open the statue can reap the huge benefit within, while others may also collect any leftovers without much risk."

"Excuse me once again, but how does that benefit weaker applicants?" the student asked once more, his hands trembling as he propped his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"Well, it basically creates two different strategies, right?" Youta began, confidently speaking out amongst the crowd of sheepish applicants. "You either take the easy route and hunt for hidden eggs on the outskirts of the city where combat is less prevalent… or take a risk and try to go for the statue in the centre, where loads of people will be fighting."

"Correct again, Kaneyama-kun," Misato smiled, eliciting some baleful whispers and glares towards Youta. Ochimaru couldn't help but distance himself from his new friend slightly, as he didn't want to draw attention to himself before the exam started. "That about covers the basic rules of the practical exam. The school faculty will be watching your progress on security cameras, and teachers will be notified immediately if anyone is injured or incapacitated."

"Competing in this heat is pretty much a death sentence," Youta laughed, brushing his damp, messy fringe away from his forehead. Every other applicant was in a similar state, especially those who hadn't dressed for the hellish weather. Ochimaru couldn't wait to get away from the stench of a sweaty crowd of teenagers.

"Crates of iced water bottles have been placed around common hotspots within the Hero Simulation Area for your convenience," Misato replied. "If there are no further inquiries or remarks, we will commence lining up at the entrance to the city in preparation for the starter whistle."

* * *

The Hero Simulation Area looked even more unbelievable beyond the impenetrable gate. Ochimaru gawked at the perfect replication of a metropolis as he took his place amongst the other applicants, all gathering in one long line. Even though a hundred people were standing shoulder-to-shoulder, they only took up a fraction of the immediate area. The entrance was at the beginning of a residential area, complete with fully furnished houses and overgrown gardens. When this place wasn't being used for lessons or exams, it could easily support thousands of people. The skyline was obscured by skyscrapers and lampposts, and winding pavements split off in every direction. The concrete jungle was almost like an elaborate maze they would have to traverse if they ever hoped of reaching the centre.

"Statue, here I come," Youta grinned while skilfully stretching his legs.

"I think I'm gonna stick to the outskirts for the time being," Ochimaru wavered, displeased that he would have to abandon the only other person he knew. He would just hold Youta back if they both aimed for the statue, and his Quirk was more-suited to small skirmishes rather than a full-blown war over an objective. "I can already see a few eggs from here."

"Hopefully we'll meet up somewhere along the way then," Youta smiled, picking up his basket and hauling it over his shoulder. "I'm expecting to see a basket full of glittering gold when I see you next, okay?"

"Got it," Ochimaru smiled, and although his stomach was tying itself into a series of painful, crippling knots, Youta's words of encouragement managed to raise his spirits. "Good luck."

"Koushujin applicants!" Misato called, brandishing a pristine, silver whistle high into the air. "This year's practical exam will begin in 3…"

"2…"

"1…"

The harsh sound of a hundred pairs of shoes clapping against the pavement drowned out the shrill blaring of the whistle as everyone broke off in different directions. Ochimaru was pushed and shoved as he tried to hold his own against the other powerful students, but it wasn't long before he found himself falling towards the back of the crowd. He watched as Youta's purple hair slowly disappeared amongst the leaders of the pack as they made their way into the city. He avoided eye contact with everyone in fear of starting an altercation and dived into an empty street to catch his breath and collect his thoughts. He wouldn't get anywhere by just foolishly following the masses. Independence was key to survival here.

He quickly swiped a white egg sitting atop a recently-trimmed hedge and dumped it into the metallic basket by his side as he frantically searched around the area. Most applicants would enter the city a little before trying to search for points, but he knew that it would be better to search around the entrance area for any easy eggs before moving along. Hopefully, he could avoid combat with other scavengers and stealth around the area. Heartbeat loud in his ears, he broke out into a jog down the pavement, wary of any activity. Shrill screams and loud, panicked shouts echoed throughout the neighbourhood as he tried to desperately hold onto his composure amidst the chaos.

He dived into the garden of a house with an orange roof at the end of the street, noticing a bronze egg carefully hidden away amongst a pile of fallen plant pots. Trying to make as little noise as possible, he dislodged the egg and stashed it away. A single white and bronze egg didn't seem like a lot of points, but he was already making good progress even though the exam was just beginning. Misato hadn't made it clear exactly the amount of points needed to pass, but he assumed that since a golden egg was so highly coveted, 50 points would be a good starting point to aim for.

The area began to get eerily quiet as he crept amongst the houses, searching high and low for any more eggs he could grab. He tipped over bins and peered through windows, feeling somewhat like a shady home-invader. His basket a few more eggs heavier, it seemed like he had exhausted this particular street's resources, so he began to loop back around to where he had started. He wondered how many people had decided on the same strategy as him, but before he could plan his next move, he rounded the secluded street corner and ran straight into another wide-eyed applicant.

A boy with platinum-blond hair fashioned into an oversized quiff gasped as the two almost headbutted each other. Ochimaru spluttered out an apology and instinctively placed a hand over his basket, trying to protect the meagre amount of eggs he had collected. The other boy's basket was empty, and he had either started late, or was far less lucky in his search of the neighbourhood. Ochimaru considered turning around and jumping into the bushes to escape the rising conflict, but the sudden shock had left him stunned.

"I usually dislike being so forward, but…" the boy began, striding towards Ochimaru with a sense of urgency that made him completely freeze in place. "I don't have a choice."

Before he could react, the stranger lurched forwards and kissed him forcefully on the cheek, the scent of cheap, synthetic hairspray assaulting his nostrils. He jumped backwards as soon as the boy's lips left his face, his confusion only met with a strange, jovial smile. He brushed a spatter of saliva away from his cheek with the back of his hand, staring at the applicant in disgust, unable to even process what had just happened. The boy's lips were unusually bright and red, almost like he was wearing expensive lipstick, but when Ochimaru looked down at his hand, nothing had wiped off.

"Sorry about that, I usually give people a warning first," the boy laughed, stretching his hand over to reach the eggs inside Ochimaru's basket. "Trust me, it's not fun for me either."

Ochimaru would've brought his arm away in an instant, but he suddenly noticed that it wouldn't move even an inch. No matter how hard he strained or pulled, his body wouldn't listen to him. All he could do was move his eyes in horror, watching as the boy leisurely collected all of his eggs and transferred them to his own basket. He tried to open his mouth to shout out in protest, but his lips wouldn't move. It was like someone had glued them together. His throat constricted as he struggled to breathe, nostrils flaring in anger.

"Liplock," he stated, walking backwards with an apologetic smile on his face. "I never thought I'd see the day when my Quirk would actually be useful for something."

He tried to reach out for the boy as he began to run down the pavement, but his fingers only offered a weak twitch and fell still once again. Only able to move his eyes, he stared dejectedly at his empty basket and cursed the applicant's insanely effective Quirk. Even if he had to kiss someone in order to paralyse them, it was still incredibly useful for instantly disabling an opponent. If he ever saw the boy again, he would know to keep his distance.

"It'll wear off in a few more seconds!" he shouted, stifling a laugh as he quickly climbed over a brick wall with surprising agility and fell out of sight. "Thanks for the eggs!"

Ochimaru stood still in an enraged, unwilling silence before he finally felt his limbs loosen. He wanted to yell out at the scarily affectionate applicant, but he was long gone into the concrete maze by the time his vocal chords could move again. He was thankful nobody else had crossed his path when his body was in a paralysed state, although they would only leave disappointed because of his empty basket. He released a heavy, overdue breath and rubbed at his stiff shoulder with a recovering hand. All the progress he had been working towards had been stolen in one fell swoop, and now he was the one lagging dangerously behind. What was the point of hunting for eggs if they were just going to be taken by more confident applicants?

He would have to be more aggressive if he was to stand a chance against the others. Everyone else was doing all that they could to become professional heroes, while he was just creeping around fearfully collecting a pitiful amount of points. The very thought of moving closer to the centre of the city made his nervous stomach churn queasily, but he didn't have much of a choice. From this point onwards, he was going to use his Quirk not only to protect his own basket, but to potentially create an opportunity for a hit-and-run. A hero who wasn't brave enough to take on their peers wouldn't get anywhere in the industry.

With a newfound resolve, he headed towards the same direction as the applicant who had kissed him, slowly coming closer to the densely-packed buildings and towering skyscrapers of the mock city. The heat was almost suffocating, and he feared that the sweat pouring off him would negatively impact his Quirk. He had sensitive skin, and the pores on his hands needed to be unclogged for his soap to be produced and released. Sweat mixing with the lather would only make it less effective. He grabbed a nearby water bottle from a supply crate and downed the precious fluid in one gulp, pouring the remnants on his head in a desperate attempt to cool off as he ran down the empty street.

It wasn't long before his progress was halted yet again, this time by one of the elaborate roadblocks created by the teachers rather than another applicant. A huge, seemingly bottomless pitfall lay across the road, as if a portion of the ground had suddenly swallowed all its surroundings. His knees wobbled uncontrollably as he cautiously peered over the edge, only to be met with an infinite, inky black void. He could easily find another street and continue down a safe path, but a silver egg lying unguarded on the other side of the giant sinkhole was too alluring to ignore. His poor, empty basket was calling out to him.

He took a moment to ponder about how he would cross the impossible gap, as it was obviously intended for those with Quirks that granted them some form of superhuman movement. A person who could fly or jump up to great heights would trivialise this entire obstacle as they would be able to claim the prize without so much as a second thought. He was relatively less equipped for the job, but he desperately needed the points if he hoped to catch up with the other applicants. He doubted that others still had empty baskets.

Just as he was ready to give up, he spotted another applicant appear from an alleyway not too far away from him. He quickly dived behind a post-box before he was spotted, ignoring his earlier promise to be more proactive about stealing eggs. Kneeling on the searing pavement made him wince, but it was better than being discovered for a second time. He wasn't going to foolishly attack others without determining their capabilities and weaknesses first. A hero had to be strategically intelligent as well as physically powerful.

A girl cautiously tip-toed over to the edge of the pitfall like he had done minutes earlier, but instead of staring in confusion at the silver egg lying on the other side, she smiled softly in celebration. He instantly noticed that her skin was a sickly, pale-green colour like the inside of a honeydew melon. One of her parents must have had a Quirk that affected the composition of their skin and passed it down to her. She was wearing a simple, yellow summer dress, something completely unsuited to combat or intensive exercise, and a wide-brimmed sunhat that shielded her peculiar, inhuman skin from the harsh, blazing sun. She didn't look at all dangerous or capable of becoming a pro hero, but Ochimaru kept watching to see how she would tackle the impassable obstacle.

She reached gently into the shallow pockets of her dress and pulled out a small, brown object. Ochimaru squinted and craned his neck to try and figure out what she was holding, but before he could, she tossed it into the pitfall and closed her eyes. Suddenly, an eerie, creaking sound echoed throughout the street before a giant oak tree shockingly sprouted upward as if from nowhere. It grew to its full, majestic height in the span of seconds, its lengthy branches carving into the side of buildings and shattering windows. A flurry of leaves and acorns cascaded onto the abandoned cars below as the girl opened her eyes again, frowning shyly at the surprising amount of damage that the newly-born tree had caused. Ochimaru struggled to stay silent as a torrent of leafy debris assaulted him from above.

A branch had conveniently grown its way towards the green-skinned girl as she started to crawl upon its sturdy bark, grasping onto her sunhat with a shaking hand so it wouldn't plummet into the abyss below. She looked absolutely terrified, but she continued onwards until she was obscured by the tangled mess of leaves and branches. If he wanted to collect that silver egg, then he had better snatch it up before the girl could. While her Quirk allowed her to access the obstacle's reward, it also created a permanent pathway for anyone looking to impede her progress. Ochimaru smiled at his good fortune and sped off towards the oak tree after ensuring that the girl couldn't see his approach.

He had never been good at dealing with heights, but the oak tree's stoic stature and safety blanket of branches ensured that he had a good chance to be caught if he was unlucky enough to fall. Cursing quietly as a particularly sharp branch ripped through part of his tank top, he made his way across the sea of leaves while remaining as quiet as possible. Every misplaced step and shuffle shook the less stable branches of the tree, and he hoped that the girl had already reached the other side, or else his presence would be obvious. Taking her by surprise with his slippery Quirk would give him the best chance to steal the valuable egg. He felt guilty about taking it from her after she had tried her hardest to reach it, but time was dwindling.

Emerging on the other side of the tree, he was quick enough to watch as the girl bent over to pick up the silver egg with a sigh of relief. Seeing his opportunity quickly fading, Ochimaru decided this was his last chance to act before he was noticed. Using the branch as a springboard, he leaped across the remaining distance of the pitfall and landed powerfully by her side. Offering her no time to react, he took a deep breath and concentrated despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He felt the pores in his hands tickle as he raised them towards the girl's feet, ignoring her surprised squeal. When the fuzzy sensation reached its peak, he unleashed a torrent of pink, soapy liquid that sprayed across the ground, sending useless, miniscule bubbles floating towards the sky.

The girl stepped backwards in shock, her pale brown sandals suddenly slipping on the soapy lather. Her eyes widened as she instantly lost her balance, sending the silver egg tumbling out of the basket as she fell onto the ground, her yellow dress becoming stained with the oily substance. Ochimaru's attention focused on the valuable egg as it bounced and slid across the concrete, lodging itself between two branches, coming dangerously close to tumbling into the sinkhole. He dived away from the girl in a panic, attempting to grip the egg with soaked, lathery hands before it rolled away any further. A few seconds of fumbling later, and the egg was sitting safely in his metallic basket.

"No, that's mine!" the girl cried out, still on her hands and knees, crawling away from the soapy patch on the ground before she attempted to stand again. Her sunhat had been skewed in the fall, obscuring her eyes. "Give it b-back!"

Feeling too ashamed of his underhanded tactics to offer a reply, he jumped back onto the thickest branch and escaped through the branches. He looked back to witness the girl taking another tiny seed out from her pocket and throwing it towards him, determination fierce in her brown eyes despite her otherwise unsure expression. She bit her lip in concentration before the seed rapidly morphed into a spiky, dangerous cactus hurtling straight in his direction. He yelped and ducked behind another branch for cover, one of his feet hanging precariously over the abyss. He watched as the needle-covered plant lodged itself into bark beside him, one of the spines barely scraping against his nose before it came to a rest. Any slower in dodging and he would've got a face full of cactus needles.

He took a moment to process the shock before scampering away through the sprawling oak tree like a monkey. He considered lubricating the branches with soap so that it would be harder for the girl to follow him, but he decided against it as it could have caused her to have a serious fall. He had been cruel enough already just by taking the silver egg as soon she had laid her hands upon it. Ignoring her nervous cries of protest, he took off in the opposite direction as soon as his shoes hid solid ground once more. He wiped his soapy hands on the front of his shirt as he ran, his basket now one valuable egg heavier.

Several minutes later, after hiding in alleyways and sprinting hurriedly through deserted streets, he was slowly but surely making his way towards the centre and collecting points along the way. He had come across more white eggs while running away from the girl that helped to conceal the silver one tucked away at the bottom of his basket, and he was feeling much more confident about his chances now that he had a moment to stop and breathe. Warily creeping through a silent street, he kept his guard up in case any applicants decided he was a worthy target. Hopefully he would run into Youta soon, although the golden egg he had promised was still sadly nowhere to be seen.

After a few more minutes of silent running, he came across something that left him dumbfounded. A pile of black clothes had been discarded lazily on the side of the pavement, baking away under the sweltering sun without any sign of an owner. It wasn't just a jacket that an applicant had thrown to the ground in the middle of battle, but an entire outfit – including crumpled underwear. He sheepishly prodded at the pile with his foot as if he was expecting them to come alive and suddenly attack. Whoever these clothes belonged to must have either brought a second outfit or were totally fine with running around naked. The heat would make anyone consider the latter, although they would have to be considerably brave. To make the situation even stranger, an empty egg basket was sitting only a few feet away from the pile of clothes, whatever contents it had once contained long gone by the time he had arrived. He was starting to get worried for this unclothed, unknown applicant.

Before he could ponder about the owner's identity any further, he began to feel a creeping apprehension that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He whirled around only to be faced a dark, shadowy apparition in the vague shape of a person. It was like a ghost had suddenly decided to haunt him, but instead of a floating spectre, this figure looked entirely real. The shadow suddenly rushed forwards on solid legs as it raised a black, skinny fist. Ochimaru could only shield his basket before the shadow sucker-punched him directly in the gut. He gasped weakly as he clutched at his pained stomach, hunched over like he was about to vomit. The shadow knocked the basket out of his grasp as he wheezed in pain, sending all the points he had collected spilling out across the pavement.

Through watery eyes, he watched as the shadowy person weaved their way across the street towards the fallen eggs. If this thing was some type of ghost or spirit, it had mysterious physical properties that it allowed it to directly harm others. He was still recovering from that surprisingly solid punch, waves of sharp pain almost bringing him to his knees. He could only watch as a pair of bare, human arms emerged from the thick shadow's torso, clutching at his eggs. It looked like a person was hiding inside the shadow, piloting it like a suit of armour. Whatever it was, he couldn't let it reach the precious silver egg. He took a pained, raspy breath of stifling air before chasing after the shadowy person, intent on wrestling it away from his upturned basket.

He jumped upon the preoccupied shadow from behind, somehow able to knock it down to the ground as countless white eggs flew in all directions. He wrapped his arms around its back to keep it from moving as the figure inside struggled against his unsteady grip. The pale arms retreated inside the shadowy exterior as the two wrestled against the pavement. He only had a good grasp on the apparition for a few seconds before a hand materialised from its right shoulder, prising one of his arms away with a shocking amount of strength. Ochimaru gritted his teeth and begrudgingly let the figure go, cursing quietly at the mysterious hand. Whoever was inside was able to manoeuvre their limbs wherever they liked. This Quirk was powerful.

He rolled across the warm, solid concrete towards the silver egg and his basket, grabbing them both before the mysterious shadow could reach them. Standing back up again, he noticed that his own shadow that should have been trailing across the ground behind him was gone, even though the bright sun was still hanging high in the air. This wasn't just a random shadow that an applicant was possessing, it was _his_ shadow. Upon closer inspection, the pitch-black figure had ears that protruded outwards like his and was roughly the same height. It was the only explanation for his missing shadow that made any sense.

He stared at the featureless face of the shadow as he backed away. Taking the loss and retreating with the silver egg was the best option he had. Nothing was as difficult as fighting your own shadow, and hopefully whoever was inside wouldn't be fast enough to catch him before he could escape. He realised that discarded outfit must have belonged to the shadow's pilot, as he had once read in a textbook that articles of clothing often interfered with Transformation Quirks. If the pilot exited the shadow, he would hopefully stop to get dressed again before chasing after him. He gave the shadow a final glare before turning his back and breaking out into a run, his stomach still pulsating with pain.

A hero needed to know when they were outclassed, or else they wouldn't even last a second out in the real world against villains. There was no shame in living to fight another day. With considerably less concentration than before, he let a weak, soapy mixture slowly seep out from his hands and splatter across the ground behind him as he ran away, attempting to dissuade the applicant from following him even further. Anyone who stepped on his soap would find it extremely hard to keep their balance, and he had never met another person who could walk across it without slipping and falling. It wasn't much, but it was all he had.

He didn't even look back as he crossed through multiple streets and alleyways, eventually running out of stamina and coming to a slow, shaky stop. Finally feeling safe again, he pressed his back against a derelict building and slid down to the ground, clutching at his chest as every frantic breath stung at his lungs. He had completely lost track of how close he was to the centre of the city and the exam was more than halfway over. Roughly, he had little over half of an hour before they would all be called back the entrance. He had better find Youta and the statue quickly before he went home with only twenty points.

No matter where he turned, there were applicants embroiled in combat everywhere. Shouts rang out from every direction and what sounded like a large explosion echoed from somewhere far away. It was like he had been dropped in the middle of an active warzone. He became more and more panicked as every street he searched only lead to aggravating dead ends and obstacles, the dread of failing the exam weighing heavily on his shoulders. He had managed to creep around and stay hidden from all the commotion, but he knew it wouldn't last for very long. The closer he got the centre, the denser the population of applicants.

Right on cue, he peered around a wall vandalised with crude graffiti only to witness two other applicants right in the middle of an intense fight. To his dismay, the serpentine girl he had accidentally upset earlier was coiled around the ankle of an immensely tall boy, who must have had some type of Quirk that increased the length of his legs. He looked like some type of sports mascot wearing unstable stilts as he teetered high in the air, his height rivalling some of the smaller buildings in the area. The snake girl kept a firm grasp on the boy amidst the wobbling, her flexible neck slowly slithering its way up to his bare thigh.

Ochimaru could do nothing else but hold his breath and watch as the serpentine girl bared her dangerous, sharp fangs. A guttural hiss escaped her throat as her lower jaw slackened to an astounding length, her eyes flashing with malice as she prepared to strike. The boy yelped and tried to shake her off, only to lose what little balance he had left and come crashing down to the concrete. It was like watching a towering tree being brutally cut down. He impacted the pavement with a sickening crunch and went limp, his legs slowly returning to their natural size as he lay still.

The girl dusted herself off as if nothing had happened and casually collected the fallen eggs around the area, her forked tongue flicking rapidly from her mouth as she finally checked the boy over for any life-threatening injuries. She didn't look the least bit guilty for causing another applicant to fail the entrance exam. Her basket was nearly overflowing with a myriad of sparkling eggs, and from what he could see from behind the wall, she easily had at least a hundred points. It was certainly tempting to try and steal a few, but her serpentine figure was so intimidating that it had him rooted to the spot.

"I'll give you one minute to get out of my sssight," she suddenly hissed, glaring over her lithe shoulder directly towards his hiding spot in the alleyway. He felt his heart sink dejectedly as their eyes met for the second time. She seemed ready to act on the aggression she had displayed earlier at Koushujin's entrance.

"How d-did you know I was here…?" he stuttered, retreating even further into the alleyway until only the frightening girl's pale, lengthy neck and serpentine head were visible. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of those potent fangs she was so keen to show off.

"You ssstink of lavender," she spat, tapping at her forked tongue with a sharp, bloodied fingernail. "It'sss coming from whatever'sss dripping from your handsss."

It was difficult to ignore the girl's prominent lisp, as her tongue would rattle against her narrow lips whenever she talked. It only made her threats more intimidating, like she was brandishing a sharp knife with every harsh word. Despite his rising fear, Ochimaru was strangely fascinated by the girl's inhuman appearance. He couldn't help but curiously stare at the contours and wrinkles on her thin face as her serpentine nostrils flared in rage. The girl furrowed her brow in disdain at his incessant, silent staring and finally broke eye contact, turning away with a hostile swish of her flexible neck. He was at a loss for words.

"If you're heading for the centre, it'sss in the opposssite direction," she begrudgingly stated, striding powerfully past the unconscious applicant. "The arrogant boy with the purple hair wasss fighting with sssome mussscled girl over at the egg ssstatue when I left."

"Oh, uh… thank you," he replied, dumbfounded by the girl's helpful advice. She didn't seem like the type to go out of her way to help others, but this _was_ the entrance exam for a hero school. She was probably counting on being graded positively for altruistic behaviour.

"Don't misssinterpret thingsss," she growled. "I only told you ssso you don't end up following me and ssstealing my eggsss."

"I don't think I'd be able to beat you in a fight anyway," he smiled nervously, emerging from the alleyway with his hands raised in surrender. He felt like a zookeeper trying to quell the temper of a wild, untrained animal.

"Leave me alone and we'll never have to find out," she hissed, her tone dripping with venom. Her voice echoed ominously throughout the deserted street as she retreated with her overflowing basket. "You'd better ssstart running… your minute is almossst up."

He felt guilty for leaving the unconscious applicant sprawled across the concrete in the sweltering weather, but he assumed that one of the teachers was already on their way to collect him. He didn't want to imagine the look on the boy's face when he woke up only to discover that he had failed the exam. The serpentine girl's lack of remorse for her brutal actions also unsettled him, but it would certainly benefit her in the competitive environment of the hero course. Hopefully he would get a chance to properly apologize for staring at her when they both passed the exam. Her hostility probably came from a vulnerable place.

He shook his head to dispel the uncomfortable thoughts and broke out into a fevered run. He could make a beeline for the centre of the city now that he knew its direction, and he certainly wasn't sticking around to see if the serpentine girl was serious about her threat. The heat was making him dizzy, but if he didn't gather his strength for the final push to the statue, the chances of him passing the exam were slim. If he was lucky, it would already be destroyed by the time he arrived, and he could safely collect the leftover eggs before time ran out. It was now or never.

Following the quiet din of exasperated voices, he eventually came across a trail of carnage that marked the entrance to the city's centre. An upturned car was slowly leaking petrol across the concrete, poisoning the air with the oddly alluring, industrial scent. He crept through shards of broken glass that crunched harshly under his battered boots, staying spry and low to the ground in case he was suddenly ambushed. Instead, the destroyed street was oddly quiet. It looked like the aftermath of full-scale war, and he assumed that those responsible for the destruction had already made their way to the statue. He was standing amidst the broken, forgotten remnants of their fight.

Using the crushed vehicle as cover, he rolled into a shaded alleyway at the end of the dilapidated street. He leaned against a huge, green dumpster that was thankfully empty to collect his thoughts and calm himself down. This was his last chance of respite before he dived into the chaotic fight over the egg statue. He felt rather cowardly for sticking to the shadows and thin, bricked corridors for the entire exam, but he knew it was better to be safe than sorry. If he hadn't been as careful, he could have ended up like the long-legged boy.

He peeked fearfully out of the alleyway only to immediately pull his head backwards and press himself flat against the cold, stone wall in shock. Countless people littered the courtyard in front of him, some still active and others motionless on the ground. He had only dealt with a single person at a time for every altercation in the exam, but there was no such opportunity once he emerged into chaos. He stared down at his own reflection in the glittering silver egg. His pathetic, scared eyes stared back at him with those pink irises he had been teased for in junior high. Weird eye colours were just as common as hair colours in the modern era of Quirks, but he hated that he was stuck with such a bland, girly colour.

His face tightened to a harsh expression of anger as he glared at himself. What the hell was he doing, cowering in an alleyway while all the other candidates were fighting bravely for their admission? Spurred on by the mental beratement, he stepped back out into the beating sun before he had a chance to think things through and waste even more precious time. He wildly looked around for the egg statue as he sprinted through fallen bodies and flashy projectiles, trying to ignore the surprised yelps of everyone that he passed. He wasn't going to stop running until he found Youta again.

It only took a few more seconds until the towering, oval statue carved from dense stone came into view. It stood proudly atop a high pedestal that was far taller than he expected, preceded by a set of wide stone steps that would make anyone run out of breath before they even reached the top. He couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment that he had made it to the centre of the city relatively unscathed, but it was quickly overtaken by an intense worry as a head of purple hair was nowhere to be found. He could only see a large, muscled figure standing on the egg's pedestal with their herculean arms folded. It must have been the girl that the serpentine applicant mentioned. It looked like she was guarding the statue.

Before he could take another confident step forward, he was suddenly blindsided by a strange, white object that seemed to move at the speed of sound. All he could do was flinch pathetically as the projectile whistled across the courtyard and struck him on the side of the head. He groaned and crouched low to the ground, clutching at strands of his blonde hair as his brain rattled forcefully against his skull. Thick, plastic shards of the unknown white object fell to his unsteady feet as he slowly turned in the direction it was fired.

A tall boy with dark grey hair was standing a few feet to his left, partially concealed by a gnarled, skinny tree. He was brandishing some sort of large slingshot that was still recoiling from the force at which the projectile was fired. It was oddly flesh-coloured, and as Ochimaru recovered from the surprise blow, he realised that the applicant was missing one of his arms. Well, no, it wasn't that it was missing. The slingshot _was_ his arm. The skinny boy's right forearm forked in the middle into a vague Y-shape, with a strange stretch of what looked to be red, exposed muscle connecting both ends that were without fingers.

Despite the aggressive attack, the boy's slim face remained emotionless as he reached into a metallic basket and loaded his slingshot arm with another round of ammunition. Only when he began to pull back the grotesque patch of flexible muscle did Ochimaru realise what had suddenly crashed into him earlier. The chunky shards littering his feet had been from a white egg. The boy's basket was filled to the brim with them.

"Using your own points as ammo…?" he faltered, diving into the tall grass before the Mutant could get another clear shot at him. The slingshot was already shivering under the pressure of being pulled back by the boy's single, powerful hand.

"I have plenty to spare," the boy replied, his quiet tone nonchalant and unassuming.

"What are you trying to accomplish anyway?" Ochimaru seethed, rubbing softly at the lump that was already forming on his head. The white egg was flimsy and hollow, but it was shot from the boy's slingshot with such speed it might as well have been a bullet.

"Ambushing people that get close to the statue," he stated, his soft voice barely audible over the commotion echoing through the scarred courtyard. "Before they reach Fumiyo anyway."

"Fumiyo?" he parroted.

"The athletic girl over there," the boy said, pointing at the statue with his normal hand. "She hasn't taken a step off of that pedestal since the beginning of the exam. She blasts away anyone who gets close with a gust of air from her hands. Her Quirk's called Razor Wind."

"And how do you know that?" Ochimaru questioned, perplexed by the boy's casual nature. His slingshot was still loaded and directed towards his rough location in the tall grass, but it looked like he had no intention of firing another egg.

"We studied at the same middle school," he whispered, as if the girl would suddenly turn on him if he spoke any louder. It was only natural that old classmates would stick together in an exam like this. "Trust me, you don't want to approach her alone."

"Noted," Ochimaru winced, taking a moment to ogle at the girl's bulging muscles. She would have looked more in place at a weightlifting competition or even the Olympics, and she definitely had a head start compared to the other applicants when it came to physical strength. "Anyway, have you seen a boy with purple hair around the courtyard anywhere?"

"Ah yes, the overconfident one," he replied with a small smile. "He backed off from the statue only a couple minutes ago on about the tenth wind blast."

"Tenth!?" Ochimaru cried, trying his best to stay quiet. He didn't want everyone else in the courtyard to suddenly focus their attacks on him.

"Yes," the boy nodded, dropping to his dirty knees and finally letting the white egg roll out of his slingshot. He gingerly placed it back in the metallic basket that was balancing on a weak, dry branch. "He sustained quite a few injuries before retreating with a slew of vulgar language. A few other applicants followed after him to try and steal some of his eggs."

"Which direction?" Ochimaru asked, emerging from the grass now that the kind boy had lowered his weapon. People who were willing to converse and negotiate in a competitive environment like this had to be few and far between.

"East," the boy simply replied. "Towards that fake police station over there."

"Thanks!" Ochimaru smiled, happy to have met someone who was relatively friendly. The lump on his head still throbbed painfully, but he was willing to overlook it since the boy had given him valuable information. "Good luck with the rest of the exam."

"Same to you," he nodded. "Getting past Fumiyo won't be easy."

Ochimaru came to his senses once again when a bright blue laser beam shot past his head and travelled up into the cloudless sky before dissipating in a shower of sparkles. He had almost forgotten that he was right in the middle of a battlefield. He took off in a fearful sprint as the slingshot boy readied his weaponised appendage towards the source of the laser. He passed directly through a crowd of preoccupied applicants, harshly elbowing a boy with dark, frizzy hair in the back. He only had a few more minutes to meet up with Youta and confront Fumiyo before the exam finished. This wasn't the time to be polite. His friend could have been in danger depending on the number of applicants that followed him. Even with his Quirk, it would be difficult to fend off multiple attackers without making a mistake.

He barged through the doorway of the police station only to find a group of applicants pinned forcefully against the pristine white floor. They were still conscious and swearing their heads off as they tried to push themselves off the ground, only to fall limp again under the immense weight pressing down on their backs. Even though they were immobilised by Youta's Quirk, it looked like a clear struggle had occurred in the foyer. The place was a complete wreck. Tables and chairs were upturned and missing legs, windows had been shattered carelessly, and a fancy mahogany desk had been smashed to pieces.

"Where is he?" Ochimaru questioned, kneeling down and prodding one of the aggressive applicants with an accusatory finger. A boy with maroon hair and broad shoulders sighed in frustration as he finally gave up on trying to stand again.

"Someone… cornered him in the… locker room," he wheezed, gasping hurriedly for air as the increased weight of his body pressed down on his lungs. He hoped that Youta hadn't permanently injured any of the applicants.

His determination to save his new friend outweighed his concern for the other applicants as he rushed down the narrow hallway, leaving the victims to struggle against the powerful, invisible force. He would need to collect Youta and escape the police station before everyone recovered, or else he would also become a target for theft. He came across a sturdy wooden door that had been ripped entirely from its hinges and crossed through the threshold, hands raised as he concentrated on pre-emptively activating his Quirk.

He finally laid eyes upon his friend again, although he was covered in what looked like countless deep papercuts that were dripping with blood. He was being restrained by a stout, burly applicant who had a series of tentacles sprouting from his back. The slithering appendages had suction cups that reminded Ochimaru of an octopus or a squid. They quickly latched onto Youta's wrists and legs, preventing him from moving his injured hands. The applicant stood powerfully as their tentacles constricted each one of his limbs and suspended him in the air. All he could do was struggle against the rubbery appendages.

After a short moment of shock, Ochimaru immediately leapt into action. A tentacle slithered its way across Youta's mouth as his eyes widened in surprise. He crept behind the ruthless applicant and brought a finger to his lips as soon as he noticed Youta staring at him. He began to feel the familiar tickle dance across his fingers as he gathered all of his strength into producing the most potent soap he could muster. As soon as he couldn't contain the sensation any longer, he flexed his fingers and aimed his hands towards the main tentacles that were grasping onto Youta's arms.

A thick, soapy mixture blasted out from his pores and splattered against Youta's upper half. The applicant whirled around in surprise and sent a tentacle slamming into Ochimaru's torso. He was swiftly sent tumbling off of his feet by the tentacles' astounding strength before he could completely finish expelling all of his lather. He aimed the uncontrollable flow of pink soap towards the applicant's feet as he fell before slamming painfully into the row of metallic lockers, his head whipping back and cracking off one of the doors. He barely even registered the pain as he stemmed the flow of slippery liquid and exhaled in relief.

He looked up to witness Youta slipping free from the powerful suction cups now that he had been sufficiently lubricated. He wrenched his right arm away from the tentacle with a series of pops as the cups fell away in quick succession. Before the applicant could constrict Youta any further, he stretched forward and grabbed one of the loose tentacles with a full five fingers, sending it hurtling down to the ground. The increased weight caused the stout boy to lose balance and slip on the stray puddle of soap left on the ground. The weighty tentacle kept him pinned against the tiles of the locker room floor as he released Youta, who landed on his hands and knees with an exasperated gasp.

"I still would've beaten him without your help y'know," Youta sighed while softly kicking the paralysed applicant's waist. The tentacled boy glared back at him, too encumbered to even offer a scathing response.

"Even with all those injuries?" Ochimaru asked, slowly crawling to his feet amidst his own oily soap. He had bought a pair of boots with the best grip available in preparation for the exam, but it was still incredibly difficult to stand and walk on the lathered tile floor.

"These are nothing!" he laughed, rubbing the numerous wounds on his arms to prove that he could fight through the pain. "That buff girl's Quirk is really something else though. I'm pretty sure she could've sliced off my arms with that wind if she really wanted to."

"Do you actually have a plan for getting past her?" Ochimaru questioned, concerned that Fumiyo would completely block them off from the statue until the exam ended. "The slingshot guy made it sound like you just kept running into her over and over again."

"Oh c'mon, give me a bit more credit than that," Youta grinned, scooping up his discarded basket and the loose eggs that had tumbled out across the room. "Every Quirk has its limits, right? She's been firing off these sharp gusts of wind from her hands the entire exam, so they've gotta be pretty beaten up by now. My plan is to drain her energy 'till the most she can produce is a weak little puff of air."

"Even if her Quirk did end up failing, she's still no joke when it comes to physical strength," Ochimaru countered, wiping his soapy hands on the front of the tank top, staining the fabric with a pinkish tinge. "Our only chance of breaking the statue is for you to incapacitate her."

"Well, look at you being all assertive," Youta teased. "What happened to those nerves from earlier?"

"I've been through a lot in these past two hours," Ochimaru sighed, poking at the fresh bump on the back of his head caused by the metal lockers. He wouldn't have been surprised if he ended up with brain damage at the end of this whole thing.

"You can tell me all about it after we get outta here," Youta grimaced, massaging his palms and fingers vigorously. It looked like his Quirk put some physical strain on his hands. "Overload will be starting to wear off on that pack of goons by the entrance."

"That's a way cooler name than Lather," Ochimaru huffed quietly, staring at the soapy puddle that the squirming applicant was splashing around in as the two ran out of the room.

* * *

The centre of the city was eerily quiet with only a few stragglers trying to rack up as many points as they could before the alarm signalled the exam's end. He expected to see an army of applicants all trying to desperately surpass Fumiyo. As they both returned to the dilapidated, overgrown courtyard, Ochimaru noticed that the helpful slingshot boy from earlier had disappeared from his perch on the gnarled tree. It would be disappointing if he had suddenly failed as he seemed like a nice enough person. Unfortunately, Fumiyo was still standing powerfully atop the statue's pedestal, looking rather bored that all of her challengers had fled in either fear or frustration. Her strategy to guard the statue so that nobody obtained the points instead was mean-spirited, but effective. She was essentially limiting the number of students that could pass by decreasing the number of available eggs.

"Remember, our priority is breaking the statue," Youta whispered as they fought their way through the tall grass and thorny bushes. "If I can't get close enough to apply Overload onto the buff girl, I'm counting on you to distract her, so I can use it on the statue instead."

"Lather isn't all that useful if people dodge the soap, but I'll try my best," he replied with a weak, unsure smile. He had never experienced the pressure of living up to someone's expectations before, and it was weighing heavily on his shoulders.

"Aw, don't give me that," Youta encouraged, slapping his friend on the back with a strong palm. "Making things a bit slippery isn't the only thing your Quirk can do, right? You said it yourself; soap from your mum, and bubbles from your dad."

Ochimaru was suddenly struck with a deep inspiration as soon as the words left Youta's lips. Not only did it warm his heart that he had remembered his Quirk explanation from earlier, but it also made him realise something he had never really thought about until now. All throughout his life, he had resigned himself into thinking that all he could do was produce soap from his hands. But that wasn't the case. He technically had a combination Quirk. The tiny, resilient bubbles that he produced alongside the lather were also a prominent part of his ability, even if he had only ever focused upon the slippery soap aspect. If he could figure out a method of reducing the soap while increasing the bubbles, it would completely alter his future skillset as a professional hero.

"Lightbulb just went off there, huh?" Youta grinned, his pristine, white teeth glittering in the sunlight like a beacon. "I'm looking forward to see what you come up with."

Fumiyo narrowed her grey eyes as soon as they both emerged from the dense undergrowth that shrouded and protected the egg statue. She unfolded her dirty, bruised arms with a sigh, and Ochimaru noticed that the pedestal was stained with a moist patch of fresh blood. The crimson fluid was slowly oozing from the muscled girl's large hands, and despite his inexperience, he could tell that it was from extensive Quirk overuse. He remembered the first time that his body ran out of the necessary substances to produce his soap during practice. It felt like his pores had been engulfed in fire. The blood seeped out from unnatural, hollow pockets in her hands, likely where the wind emerged from.

"It looks worse than the last time I saw her," Youta murmured, planting his feet on the first wide step that lead up to the imposing statue. "Someone else must have tried to get past her recently while I was in the police station."

"That's good for our plan, right?" Ochimaru asked, hiding partially behind his friend at the morbid sight of the wounded girl in front of them. It looked like she was in a lot of pain.

"Back for another round, Kaneyama-san?" Fumiyo yelled, her deep, almost manly voice booming throughout the courtyard. It turned the heads of the few remaining applicants in the area.

"Yup," he replied, cracking both of his battered, red knuckles. "Although this time I'm gonna win and break that damn statue behind you."

"Even with backup, you're still no match for me!" She shouted, pointing a thick finger in Ochimaru's direction. He couldn't help but gulp nervously under her intimidating gaze. She unnerved him much in the same way that the snake girl did. "Bring it on, the both of you!"

The atmosphere suddenly shifted into one of tense aggression as Youta bravely climbed the pedestal two steps at a time. Ochimaru trailed quietly behind as Fumiyo's stature shifted into a defensive position, her two arms outstretched straight in front of her as she dug her soles into the scuffed stone platform. Now that she was showing them off, Ochimaru could clearly see that she had a crescent-shaped hole in the middle of each hand. They started to whistle softly as the air from her surroundings slowly began to get sucked inside, almost like she was a powerful vacuum. The flesh on her palms was frayed due to all of her previous wind blasts, but that didn't seem to deter her as she took a long, deep breath. Youta seemed unconcerned, strongly ascending without a moment's hesitation, confident in his plan.

Ochimaru, however, was less confident. If Fumiyo was injured to the point that her Quirk would fail, then why was she even trying to fire off another wind blast? Surely the girl had a lot of experience and knew her own limits. The further that he climbed the pedestal, the more unsure he became. If Youta had been wrong in his assumption, then getting blown off the pedestal at this height would definitely cause an injury. He was just about to wildly voice his concern amidst the sound of air rushing past his ears but was swiftly interrupted.

"Run to the left!" Youta yelled, pushing Ochimaru to the other side of the pedestal as soon as Fumiyo released a calm, composed breath.

He did as his friend commanded, assuming that he would follow, but as soon as he realised what Youta was about to do, he wished that he had never left his side. He was running in the complete opposite direction, diagonally climbing the steps until he reached the top and was standing to the right of Fumiyo. He was trying to split her attention at the moment she fired a wind blast, so that she had no other choice but to aim at either one of them, unless she wanted to waste what would be one of the final uses of her Quirk. And of course, the one with the most powerful Quirk was Youta.

Her wide jaw tightened in annoyance as she quickly pivoted on her steady feet towards Youta's direction just before a torrent of uncontrollable, rushing wind was blasted out from the thin holes in her hands, sending her back a few feet until she crashed into the front of the egg statue. Spurts of blood shot from her hands as she shrieked in pain, her cry almost inaudible over the whipping winds. Youta was engulfed in the field of compressed air, the harsh winds cutting into his skin and giving him a fresh set of tiny cuts. To Ochimaru's horror, the pure force of the wind sent his friend flying back even further than Fumiyo herself until he was hanging precariously off of the high pedestal. His surprised eyes widened for a split second before he was pushed over the edge by the volatile gust.

"Youta-kun!" Ochimaru cried, watching his friend disappear into the shrubbery amidst a flurry of eggs as his basket was blown out of his hands. It wasn't a life-threatening fall, but if you landed at an awkward angle, you could easily break an arm or a leg.

Despite his intense fear at being left alone in the presence of Fumiyo, Youta's earlier encouragement still echoed clear in his mind. Even if he couldn't outright defeat Fumiyo, he could distract or disable her for long enough for Youta to climb back up if he was uninjured. Just because he wasn't here didn't mean the plan hadn't changed. He had to take matters into his own hands if he ever wanted to become a professional hero that would inspire others. Judging from her pained state, that must have been the last wind blast she was capable of unleashing. He still had a chance. How could he incorporate the bubble portion of his Quirk into an effective solution?

He was only given a few seconds to think before Fumiyo gritted her teeth and limped back to her feet. She faced him with a determined scowl, her arms falling limp to her side as they dripped quietly onto the stone pedestal. A heavy, but fleeting silence fell between the two as they stared each other down. Fumiyo broke the tension by quickly rushing forwards without warning, moving steadily even with her numerous injuries. Ochimaru reflexively brought his arms up to shield his face. His panicked mind was completely blank. He needed a little more time to think about how he was going to disable her!

As if God was answering his final wish, his salvation suddenly came in the form of a white egg that was fired from the trees above. It crashed into the side of Fumiyo's head before she could reach him, sending her reeling backwards in retreat. Ochimaru's eyes left her muscled form for a single second as he spied a tall figure splayed across a sturdy branch of an oak tree overlooking the statue. The slingshot boy from earlier gave him an encouraging thumbs-up with his able hand, his emotionless face still unchanging. Fumiyo swore as she clutched at her head, unable to focus on anything else but throbbing pain. Her loose topknot unfurled softly as she ruffled at her jet-black hair.

It gave him just enough time to think of something that might work. He silently thanked the currently nameless applicant and vowed to pay him back some time in the future. Even though he was in a perilous situation, he couldn't help but show a determined, shaky smile as his mind raced with possible ideas. The bubbles that he produced were so tiny that it was almost laughable, meaning that their supernatural resilience couldn't be used to its full potential. If they weren't naturally large, then he would have to _make_ them large.

Ochimaru quickly coated his dominant hand in a thick layer of soap and pressed the tip of his thumb and index finger together to produce a circular shape. He stared back at his own warped, distorted reflection in the ring of pink, soapy liquid he had trapped between his fingers and was reminded of the cheap bubble wands he would always buy when he was younger. It was essentially the same principle, just on a much bigger scale. He was already kicking himself for not thinking of it earlier.

"Jun!" Fumiyo shouted, her attention entirely diverted to the lanky figure camouflaged safely in the trees. "What the hell are you-"

That moment of hesitance was all Ochimaru needed to complete Youta's plan. Even though he was close to hyperventilating due to the immense pressure, he took the biggest breath he could manage as he sprinted up to the distracted girl. He brought his soapy fingers up to his mouth and blew with all of his remaining strength, his flexible soap morphing into a rubbery bubble as his face turned a bright shade of red. By the time Fumiyo noticed, it was already too late. A veil of shimmering pink liquid had engulfed her entire body as Ochimaru kept blowing even though his lungs were already empty. A combination of his nerves, the boiling heat and lack of oxygen made him extremely lightheaded, but he didn't stop until he was sure that Fumiyo was trapped in a resilient bubble of his lavender lather.

He jumped away from the buoyant bubble and witnessed Fumiyo float up into the air, falling onto her wounded hands and knees, unable to keep her balance on the soapy membrane. She stared at him in confusion, bashing her fist ineffectually on the bottom of the bubble. The rubbery substance bounced and wiggled against the powerful force, but it didn't even look close to popping. Her confusion turned to anger as she struggled and slipped against her fragrant confines. Ochimaru let out a dizzy sigh of relief as he collapsed onto the concrete pedestal. She wouldn't be able to escape now that she had exhausted her Quirk.

"I knew you'd think of something!" Youta laughed in-between hoarse, laboured breaths as he hurriedly sprinted up the stone steps. His blue tank top had been ripped to shreds and stray leaves were tangled in his messy purple fringe, but he was surprisingly unscathed.

Ochimaru was too stunned by his friend's sudden appearance to offer a reply. He watched as Youta scrambled across the slippery, soap-stained pedestal, nearly losing his balance and crashing face first into the stone statue. He grinned excitedly as he placed both of his palms on the smooth grey surface, his fingers twitching faintly as his shoulders tensed in concentration. A loud rumble interrupted Fumiyo's cries of protest as he pressed his fingers powerfully against the unmoving stone, his bruised knuckles slowly whitening as he applied more and more pressure. It didn't take long for the heavy egg statue to sink into its sturdy pedestal like it was being swallowed by quicksand. The perfect oval shape started to bend and buckle as it struggled to support its own weight, causing the whole courtyard to shudder in anticipation. Small chips of stone and fine dust began to rain down on top of Youta as he finished unloading his Quirk, coating him in a thin layer of slate powder.

Eventually, a harsh crack split its way down the middle of the statue like it just been struck by a bolt of lightning. Youta's chest heaved as he pushed against the disintegrating structure with all of his remaining strength. As soon as the rumbling ceased, he retreated back to safe distance and fell down to his bleeding, quivering knees, completely exhausted. The ruined statue finally exploded into a shower of dangerous, heavy debris that crashed into the pedestal. Even the remnants of the statue were affected by his Quirk. An unending sea of sparkling eggs rolled out of the centre of the statue alongside the worthless rubble. There had to be hundreds of points hidden inside. Every single applicant could probably pass if they collected the eggs from inside the statue.

As soon as the statue finished collapsing, the two boys jumped upon the pile of eggs and started stuffing any silver ones they could find into their metallic baskets. The last of Ochimaru's worries disappeared as he marvelled at his overflowing, sparkling basket. Youta carelessly chucked the worthless white and bronze eggs behind his back as he searched for the elusive golden egg concealed amongst the rubble. The point difference between a silver and golden egg wasn't that huge, but whoever managed to obtain one was probably given special consideration no matter their final total.

"Thank God you're alright," Ochimaru sighed as he tried to shove another egg into his already bursting basket.

"Luckily, a whole bunch of branches broke my fall," he smiled, brandishing his dirty arms that were scuffed with dirt and minor abrasions. He was going to have a hell of a time cleaning all of those scrapes and cuts once the exam ended.

"As soon as I break out of this stupid thing, I'm going to throttle the both of you!" Fumiyo interrupted, her voice muffled and distorted by the thin, soapy wall. Her hands were pressed up against the shimmering, pinkish sphere as she attempted to push her way out. "I spent two whole hours guarding that statue!"

"Why were you trying to make sure it wasn't destroyed in the first place?" Youta asked fearlessly, hobbling over to the bubble and poking at the soap that obscured Fumiyo's face. Even though he had insisted that he was unscathed, he walked with an obvious limp.

"Well, once it's broken, a bunch of nobodies can come and take the rest of the eggs without putting in any effort!" she responded, hastily bandaging her ruined hands with linen that she pulled from her back pocket. It seemed like she had planned for the excessive bleeding. "I wanted to make sure that the only people who passed the exam are those who are skilled enough to collect eggs without relying on the hard work of others."

"Unless an army of applicants rush up here in these last couple minutes, you've still succeeded even though we managed to get past you," Youta smiled, showing a surprising amount of sportsmanship to the girl who was responsible for his many injuries. "Gotta hand it to you, it was really impressive the way you pushed your Quirk to its limits."

"Oh, thanks, I guess," she deflated, surprised by Youta's sudden friendliness. Her eyes fell to the floor in contemplation as the bubble slowly came to a rest on the pedestal. "Letting my guard down after pushing you off the edge was a rookie mistake. You deserve the victory."

"Now, as long as you promise not to strangle us, I think it's only fair that you get a share of these eggs," Youta grinned, limping over to grab a jagged, sharp chunk of rock that had neatly lodged itself into the cracked pedestal. He strained to pull it out of its resting place. "You've probably worked harder than everyone else here anyway."

"I hate being pitied," Fumiyo responded flatly. "But fine, I promise."

Youta staggered over to the pink bubble and gave it a single, strong stab with the makeshift spear, causing it to finally pop and shower the pedestal and eggs in a renewed layer of soapy lather. Fumiyo took a deep inhale of fresh air as she dropped to the ground, muttering a quiet thanks as she shakily crawled across the ground to collect her long-forgotten basket. Ochimaru was oddly disappointed to see his creation silently disappear into thin air but was glad to learn that sharp objects were still its fatal weakness.

The last minutes of the exam were spent searching for the golden egg. It wasn't long before a number of applicants realised that the statue had been shattered, and soon the pedestal was filled with people trying to obtain the rare commodity. Everyone was exhausted from their previous fights, so a widescale battle didn't break out, but Ochimaru was still wary that the tenuous peace they were experiencing wouldn't last long once the egg was found. Jun took it upon himself to guide others to the pedestal, something Fumiyo didn't appreciate, but having others clean up all the bronze and silver eggs meant it was only a matter of time before the golden one was uncovered. The tentacled applicant and the tough-looking boy with red hair from the police station were the last to join the search party.

"Ochi-kun…!" Youta whispered, beckoning his friend over to an area covered in large pieces of rubble that provided a handy hiding spot from any onlookers. "I found it!"

Ochimaru tried to hide his excitement as he crept over to the rocky outcrop, only to gasp at the glittering gold egg that Youta was cradling carefully in his arms. It was far larger than the other eggs and judging from his friend's laboured groans and hunched posture, it was far heavier too. He doubted that it was made from real gold, but it still looked impressive. He couldn't help but place a shaking hand on the illustrious surface as he admired the egg.

"I want you to have it," Youta smiled genuinely, pushing the egg forcefully into his hands. "You were the one who made it possible for me to break the statue in the first place, and I already have enough points from all the silver eggs, so this is my way of saying thank you."

"I d-don't know what to say," Ochimaru stammered, almost collapsing from the sheer weight of the egg as he tried to grip onto it with soapy hands. "Are you sure?"

"Of course!" Youta grinned, clasping his friend on the shoulder. "This way, we're both guaranteed to pass! Koushujin would suck if I didn't have someone to joke around with!"

Just as Ochimaru felt like he was about to break down and cry with gratitude, an extremely loud alarm blared throughout the courtyard, almost causing him to drop the egg on his toes. It sounded like an amplified air-raid siren and the volume seemed to shake the entire city. The two slowly stepped away from the circle of rubble to see all of the remaining applicants huddled on the wide steps of the pedestal, looking towards a massive monitor embedded into the building closest to them. He had no idea how nobody had noticed it before. The screen lit up with Misato's pale face in front a blank, blue background. She looked tired.

"This year's entrance exam for Koushujin Institute has now concluded," she began. "Your egg baskets will now automatically seal themselves, so no more eggs can be collected, and any combat after the end of this announcement will result in immediate disqualification. Applicants are to make their way back to entrance of the city as soon as possible to await further instructions. Thank you very much for participating."

"Well, you heard the lady," Youta sighed. "C'mon, I'll help you carry the egg back."

The trek back to the entrance of the Hero Simulation Area was surprisingly sombre. Almost every applicant that Ochimaru passed had been injured in some way, whether it be small cuts and scrapes on their knees or more serious wounds that had already been treated by the emergency medical staff. A girl with silver hair and thin-framed glasses even had one of her arms in a makeshift sling but had somehow still managed to complete the exam with a full basket. Others weren't so lucky, and he witnessed many sorrowful applicants with missing or empty baskets shuffling slowly through the empty streets. He received countless, envious glares as he tried to hide the golden egg under his shirt and stay in the centre of the crowd.

Eventually, they all reached the entrance once again that had been transformed into what looked like a disaster-relief shelter. Sturdy, white tents had been erected in front of the gate that were already housing applicants looking to get out of the sun and receive treatment. Long tables filled with non-perishable foods and bottles of water had already been pillaged by those who had arrived early. Ochimaru sighed in relief as he collapsed into a flimsy folding chair under the shade of the towering gate. He let the golden egg roll out of his lap and fall to the ground alongside his heavy basket. He could've slipped into a deep sleep right there.

"Hey, I'm gonna go get my leg looked at," Youta muttered, careful not to put any weight on the injured limb now that his adrenaline had subsided. "The line for the tents is totally crazy so we probably won't see each other again. Here's my number so we can keep in touch."

Ochimaru stared at the hasty scribbles on the scrap of paper in amazement. They had left most of their belongings in a supply room outside the Simulation Area's gate before the exam started, but he could barely wait to get his phone back. He had never texted anyone aside from his parents on the rare occasion they would send a message, but he tried his best to hide his excitement as he pocketed the note. Youta raised a single, perplexed eyebrow.

"Thanks," Ochimaru replied, avoiding his gaze in embarrassment. "For everything."

"Don't mention it," Youta grinned with a casual wave as he limped away. "Catchya' later!"

After a few more minutes of awkwardly sitting by his lonesome and almost drifting off to sleep, Ochimaru jolted awake at the sound of the air-raid siren, although this time it was much quieter. The din of the other applicants chatting ceased as Misato strode powerfully to a wooden podium not too far from where he was sitting. She looked far more dishevelled compared to her appearance earlier in the morning. Her navy business suit was wrinkled, and her wild hair was threatening to break out of the tight ponytail. She sat a cup of steaming coffee on the podium and cleared her throat loudly. She must've been exhausted to drink something so hot on a hellish day. The caffeine was probably the only thing keeping her going. Organising and overseeing the entrance exam couldn't have been easy.

"Potential students of Koushujin!" she announced after fighting back a yawn. "After you have received any necessary treatment, you are free to cross the gate leading back to the school grounds to retrieve your personal belongings. Various members of faculty will also be waiting outside to collect your baskets in preparation for tallying the scores."

"You will receive your exam results along with information relating to your enrolment through the postal service in a couple of weeks," she continued, nodding at what looked to be other teachers as they began to open the huge, iron gate. "If you have passed the exam, the letter will include an outline of the dormitory system here at Koushujin that your guardians must sign and return before the new term begins."

Ochimaru gulped at the mention of the permission note. Even though his parents had promised he could attend a hero school if he passed the exam, they could easily go back on their word and not sign the dormitory leaflet. He wasn't old enough to oppose them yet. Luckily, the injuries he had sustained were easily to conceal. If his parents found out just how many times he had been struck in the head, they would definitely freak out and encourage him to stay inside like they had done when he was seven. He wished that his parents could be a little more like Youta's. If Fumiyo had aimed her wind blast at him instead, he would've had to say goodbye to his dream of being a hero due to the visible cuts.

"If you have any further questions, you may direct them to me or my colleagues who will be happy to assist," she said, looking eager to finish her speech and sit back down. "From all of us here at Koushujin, we wish you luck with your results and hope to see you here in April."

With no other reason to stay in the fake suburban neighbourhood, Ochimaru slowly made his way out of the Hero Simulation Area and back into Koushujin's sprawling grounds. He was surrounded by now familiar faces that now didn't seem as intimidating like they did before. Fumiyo was arguing heatedly with Jun about helping others back at the statue as they walked briskly to the station. He wondered if these applicants would become his future classmates, and maybe even friends once they got to know each other better. He had learned from various pro hero interviews that hero candidates from the same class often shared a deep bond even after they graduated, and that had been something he had yearned for ever since he was young. Even though it was quite selfish, it was partly the reason he wanted to study at a hero school. He had never got to experience friendship because of his parents.

He smiled as Jun gave him a courteous wave and beckoned him into the train compartment.

Now that he had seen the inside of Koushujin and met some of its future students, he couldn't imagine going anywhere else. His life was finally starting to begin.


	4. Results Day

Ochimaru was rudely awakened by a beige envelope as it landed directly onto his sensitive, sunburned face. He jolted upwards and fought with his tangled blue bedsheets until he was left staring at his tired, dishevelled father in a mixture of annoyance and confusion. His dad was holding a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a crumpled stack of assorted letters in the other. He scratched at his greying stubble absentmindedly as he flipped through the flimsy papers, setting his plain mug down on Ochimaru's bedside table. He rarely got to see his dad like this anymore as he had often left for work before he would even wake up.

He attempted to shake off the grogginess with a laboured stretch. He had spent most of last night messaging an excited Youta, too nervous to sleep until he eventually succumbed to exhaustion. Halfway through a huge yawn, he slowly realised that today was when the Koushujin exam results were released. Struggling through watery eyes, he flipped the wrinkled envelope over in his peeling, trembling hands and was met with a waxy yellow seal. Sure enough, it had been harshly stamped with Koushujin's proud, iconic ' **K** ' symbol. Ochimaru felt his heartbeat quicken as he shifted uncomfortably in his small bed.

"You should open it before I leave for work," his father recommended, his voice little more than a deep, tired mumble. "Your mother is waiting in the living room for when you're ready to come through. Even if you've failed, we'll still have a talk about your options."

With those fragmented, succinct words, he scooped up his bubbling mug of coffee and shuffled out of Ochimaru's messy bedroom. The way he had immediately brought up the potential chance of failure left a bad taste in his mouth and sullied what should have been a precious family moment. He sighed and fidgeted with the corner of the envelope, immediately overwhelmed by a sea of negative thoughts. Why couldn't his dad show him some encouragement before he faced the result that would decide his future? The question swirled around his addled mind as he gazed at his collection of ancient pro hero figures. His eyes landed on the one closest to him, Cinder the Smouldering Ash Hero. He wondered if the man he had only encountered once before would be prouder of him than his dad was.

Spurred on by the battered piece of painted plastic, he tore into the well-sealed envelope without hesitation. He had managed to secure a golden egg in the exam, so he was unnaturally confident in his chances of passing. It would definitely be cathartic to rub the congratulatory letter in his parent's faces. A stack of various pamphlets and documents landed on his bare lap as he frantically searched around for the one that would confirm his admission. He eventually found a simple sheet of folded paper hidden under a Kagoshima tourism brochure and quickly unfolded it, immediately scanning through the small font.

* * *

 _Dear Kawadatsu-san,_

 _After careful consideration of your entrance exam results and your courageous actions therein, the staff here at Koushujin Hero Institute have made the decision to grant you exclusive admission to our acclaimed professional hero training program._

 _Enclosed within this envelope are further instructions for your guardians to read, a summary of your exam results, a document that explains dormitory applications and regulations that must be signed and promptly returned, and a government-issued form relating to your future hero costume that will be worn throughout your studies at Koushujin. This form must be personally completed and finalised before the term begins in order for your costume to be fabricated in a timely manner. There are also other various miscellaneous letters and papers relating to the city around the school that you may read at your own leisure._

 _Congratulations on your acceptance! This year's entrance exam wasn't easy!_

 _Regards,_

 _Ayumi Mifune  
_ ~ _Koushujin Headmistress_

* * *

Ochimaru struggled to read the final sentence as heavy tears had already began to race each other down his red cheeks. He inhaled shakily and rubbed at his dripping nose in a meagre attempt to compose himself. It had been the first time in his life that he had openly cried with happiness. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he tried to stifle the waves of complex emotions that kept crashing into him without warning. He clutched the dampened letter to his smooth chest and curled up in the centre of his bed, basking in the success of finally having accomplished one of his lofty goals. He eventually wiped his face against a discarded pillow. He didn't want his parents to know he had been sobbing, although his puffy eyes were already a dead giveaway. If he came out of his room in tears, they would think he failed.

Dazed, he sorted through and organised all of the letters contained in the envelope slowly, throwing all of the advertisement pamphlets aside until only the important ones were left. Everything didn't feel real. Even as he skimmed through the dorm regulations and building layout, he couldn't help but wonder if he was still dreaming. He was actually going to attend Koushujin, one of the most reputable schools in southern Japan. It had only been established in the past fifteen years so didn't have an impressive history like U.A, Shiketsu or even Ketsubutsu, but that didn't matter. Alumni of the school often always went on to make a name for themselves, even if it was only on a small, local scale.

From reading through the dormitory pamphlets, he realised that he would have to choose a roommate or else be randomly assigned one of the other students to share a room with. He thought that Koushujin would have been wealthy enough for everyone to have an entire room to themselves, and he felt awkward about having to sleep and study in a shared area. Maybe he could apply for a single room if there was an odd number of students accepted. The only person he felt comfortable enough around from the exam was Youta, but would he even agree to share a room? He probably had other friends from junior high that were also attending the same hero school. He gulped at the thought of having a stranger for a roommate.

The last note he came across was the summary and analysis of his exam results written by various members of the Koushujin staff who had been watching on the city's high-tech security cameras. It consisted of various statements of his accomplishments, and judging by all the unique styles of handwriting, lots of different teachers had provided their thoughts on his performance. His heartbeat quickened as he felt incredibly self-conscious, worried that the cameras had captured his encounter with the serpentine girl. His handling of that delicate situation could have been far better. He lay back down in bed to take a read of the paper.

* * *

 **APPLICANT:** KAWADATSU, OCHIMARU

 **QUIRK:** LATHER

 **POINT TOTAL:** 300

 **WHITE EGGS COLLECTED:** 0

 **BRONZE EGGS COLLECTED:** 5

 **SILVER EGGS COLLECTED:** 10

 **GOLDEN EGGS COLLECTED:** 1

"As he is one of only three applicants who managed to return a golden egg and has one of the highest point totals, I personally feel he should be at the very top of the recommendation list. His actions at the city centre directly lead to the shattering of the statue, so he deserves a place at this school along with his comrade."  
\- **Rokurou Kijimuta, Head of Covert Operations**

"Despite his non-combative Quirk and hesitative nature, this applicant demonstrated his ability to swiftly disable a dangerous opponent with ingenuous thinking while under pressure. Trapping others in a bubble is an insanely useful skill for capturing villains safely. This ability will be a valuable asset in the hero course and his future career as a pro hero."  
\- **Takeshi Dojima, Deputy-Head of Villain Apprehension**

"His Quirk seems a lot better in action than it does on paper! I was cheering for him when he trapped that girl with the wind Quirk in the bubble! Nice work!"  
\- **Jitsuko Hashimoto, Deputy-Head of Civilian Assistance**

"At many points in the exam, this applicant seemed to be struggling with an internal battle to keep pushing towards the centre statue. His ability to fight against his fear, inexperience and hesitation displays a clear want to better himself. I believe he is prepared to face the hardships of the hero course."  
\- **Misato Urekana, Head of General Studies and Hero Academics**

"Although I am not a member of the teaching staff and thus have no sway over admission, I managed to catch footage of this applicant while treating the injured. He displayed great humility when fleeing from other applicants. Such a thing does not often receive praise, but I spent the day of the exam tending to the wounds of applicants who had been unfairly injured and targeted by their peers. His willingness to disengage from a fight and not cause undue harm to his fellow applicants is a rare thing to see in such a competitive environment. He must have a pure, kind heart befitting of a hero."  
\- **Morioka Otenshi, Koushujin Head Nurse**

* * *

It took all of his remaining strength to not burst into tears once again. To read such praise and encouragement from Koushujin's teachers was an honour, particularly from those with names that he recognised from the news or his childhood. Takeshi Dojima had once been given an award for capturing a record number of dangerous villains in the span of only a year, and Jitsuko Hashimoto spearheaded a campaign to save one of the most prolific Japanese politicians who had been taken hostage atop a skyscraper. She had somehow managed to rescue the man without any casualties whatsoever on either side. Both of these teachers were highly acclaimed pro heroes in the past, and they thought that he was worthy to follow in their footsteps. He shook his head in utter disbelief. This was insane.

After re-reading the analysis letter for the fifth time, he finally decided to crawl out of the haven of safety and comfort that was his bed. The allure of telling his parents that he had passed the exam was too strong to ignore any longer. He didn't care if they fundamentally disagreed with his dream anymore. The words written by Koushujin's staff contained more encouragement than his parents had ever showed him in his entire life. They would surely have to sign the documents once he told them how much praise he had received.

His toes wriggled into the stained, dark-blue carpet as he staggered to his feet. He was so shaken by the letters that his knees were wobbling. Holding onto his bedside table for support, he crept towards the mound of dirty clothes discarded in front of his wardrobe. Despite his shaking hands, he somehow managed to hunt through the pile and fish out a pair of old, grey sweatpants and the baggy, winkled pink t-shirt he had worn the day before.

Struggling to process his own success, his tired mind ran on autopilot until he found himself standing at the threshold of the living room, clutching the stack of letters so nervously that his knuckles had whitened. Cloaked in the shadow of the dim hallway, he watched as his dishevelled mother sipped at her own cup of coffee, wrapped in a fluffy purple dressing-gown. Her blonde hair was tied back hastily, and bags sat beneath her rose-coloured eyes. His father was sitting on his favourite, scarred armchair, face hidden by today's newspaper. The inflammatory headline against hero schools written on the front made Ochimaru gulp.

"It's okay, Ochi…" his mother soothed after noticing him standing hesitantly in the doorway. The look of pity on her face was enough to make his blood boil. "I know that it can be upsetting to not get the result you wanted, but-"

"I passed." Ochimaru retorted, his scathing tone far more resentful than he had intended. He ran a hand through his messy blond hair to try and compose himself, collapsing onto the frigid leather couch with a heavy sigh. "I've been offered a place in the hero course."

The silence that followed his words lasted for what felt like an eternity. It was finally broken with a shuffle of the stiff newspaper and the emergence of his father's astounded face. The shoddy reading-glasses he always wore slipped down the bridge of his small nose as his blue eyes widened in surprise. Ochimaru's gaze fell to his scarlet hands that were clasped so tightly it was peeling off the rest of his sunburn. One of his thin legs bounced with nervous energy as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, cautiously waiting for a response. The hidden frustration towards both of his parents was coming dangerously close to the surface.

"Oh… congratulations!" his mother responded after a pregnant pause. The disappointment in her voice was thinly veiled behind a fake, saccharine sweetness that she always donned when something didn't go her way. It made his stomach churn. "You've been so quiet about what happened in the exam that we didn't know what to think! Isn't that great, Tadashi?"

"Yeah, well done," his father commended with a rare nod of approval. His lips curved into a small, withdrawn smile that was far more genuine than his mother's overblown reaction. "I've heard on the news that people who've trained for these exams their whole life sometimes don't even get an offer. I didn't know you had it in you, son."

"I still can't believe it…" his mother whispered, her sweet façade faltering slightly as she realised the implications of his acceptance. Ochimaru watched the gears turn in her head as her fake smile vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced with a subtle frown. That downtrodden expression at her only son's accomplishment was the last straw.

"You would've been happier if I'd failed, wouldn't you…?" Ochimaru asked, his voice quivering nervously as he shot out of his seat on the leather couch. His temples throbbed with a stressful headache as the anger was getting harder to contain by the second.

"No, honey, no!" his mother backpedalled, almost spilling her mug of coffee onto the pristine, cream-coloured carpet. His father retreated behind the newspaper with a sigh. "We're just worried about your safety. I've been talking to the other parents who had children taking the entrance exam, and some of them were really badly injured!"

"A girl even broke her arm," his father interjected, holding up the newspaper like it was a shield against the rising conflict. "You were lucky to come away with just a nasty sunburn."

"Tell us the truth, Ochi…" his mother pleaded. "Did you get hurt in the exam?"

Even though he was going through a rebellious phase, Ochimaru couldn't bring himself to lie to his parents any longer. The lumps and bruises on his head disappeared a week after the exam, but he suddenly became acutely aware of their pain once again as he collapsed back down onto the couch. He very easily could have suffered a concussion from cracking his head against the metallic lockers in the fight with the tentacled applicant, so his mother's concern was definitely rational and justified. He had to start looking at hero work from their limited perspective if they were ever to agree. He averted his gaze and rubbed at the back of his head, as if expecting to feel the two bumps once more.

"I might've gotten hit on the head a couple of times," he murmured, eliciting a flustered rustle of the newspaper from his father. He didn't need to look at him to imagine the shock on his face. His dad had never coped well with injuries, not after he almost had to retire early due to back problems. "But honestly, it's not a big deal. I feel totally fine now."

"Why would a respected school let its potential students get hurt so much!?" his mother shrieked, her tone almost shattering the living room windows and causing him to wince. "Surely their number one concern should be the safety of their applicants!"

"There's a teacher with a healing Quirk on the faculty list," Ochimaru countered, pushing the stack of crumpled letters across the recently-polished coffee table towards his astounded mother. She looked ready to call up the school and complain. "She's been on the news a few times during all sorts of natural disasters or major villain attacks. Her Quirk allows her to heal most injuries in a matter of seconds. The school had an entire medical team that took care of anyone who required treatment after the exam, so it's nothing to be worried over."

"That still doesn't justify such careless, dangerous practices," his father scowled, finally throwing the newspaper onto the table with an annoyed sigh. Ochimaru couldn't remember the last time he was so riled up about something. "What if a student unexpectedly died during that exam? Does one of their teachers have a Quirk that can resurrect the dead?"

"Heroes get hurt all the time!" Ochimaru yelled, slamming his bare foot on the edge of the table in a fit of rage. He rarely ever had to deal with anger. It was such a volatile emotion. "The school is just preparing us for that possibility. Would you rather see the pro heroes who thanklessly protect the streets swaddled in bubble-wrap, so they never get injured?"

"That's not the issue here," he deflected. "Professional heroes have years of experience. Shoving a group of teenagers together and ordering them to fight each other with their Quirks barely seems like hero training at all. More like an illegal, underground fight club."

"And how would you know what hero training is like?" Ochimaru fumed, folding his arms dismissively and glaring at the happy family photos on the wall. He wanted to storm off to his bedroom, but his future education depended on obtaining his parents' signature. "Sorry, but I don't exactly see how managing a shitty soap business gives you any authority to try and tell me about something that I've been passionate about for my entire life."

Both of his parents looked completely shocked at his tirade of embittered, crude words. Although his round face was burning with embarrassment and shame at arguing with his own parents, spilling all of his secretive feelings that he had kept bottled up for years was strangely empowering. It probably wasn't persuading either of them to sign any of the Koushujin documents, but Ochimaru just wanted the weight off of his chest. Now that everything was out in the open, he wished he had done so sooner. It had spoiled results day.

"I'll just pretend I didn't hear that," his dad warned. The unconcealed hurt on his aging face made Ochimaru feel a painful twinge of regret. "Listen, we already promised that we'd let you attend Koushujin if you passed. Arguing like this is only going to make things worse."

"We're just worried about you, Ochi," his mother croaked, dabbing a crumpled tissue at the corners of her leaky eyes. The depressive atmosphere in the room was almost suffocating. "I'm concerned that you'll be overwhelmed once you start actually attending Koushujin. I know that it's been your dream for a while, but you've always had trouble making friends and being independent, so living in a dorm without us there will be really difficult."

"I'm only that way because you scared me from going out in public after the incident," Ochimaru murmured, thinking back to all of those quiet weekends he spent inside watching movies or reading manga instead of having an actual social life. "Remember when my entire class wanted to go shopping in Tenmonkan and you told me there could be villains there?"

"And there was a major attack there only a week later," his dad added with a frown. Ochimaru had almost forgotten about that. A twelve-year-old girl had been kidnapped while browsing shops with her parents and unlike all of the other abductions, she was never rescued or found alive a few days later. It was hard to keep track of all the abduction stories. "You can never be too careful nowadays. Local neighbourhoods are about the only safe place left."

"Or a school filled with trained guards and heroes," he replied dryly.

"Koushujin _is_ probably one of the safest places in Kagoshima," his mother admitted, scanning through the documents with tired eyes. Even though she had finished her cup of coffee long ago, her movements were still sluggish. Ochimaru wondered if she had been awake all night worrying over his results. "But I also want you to be happy as well as safe. What were the other hero candidates like? Were any of them mean to you in any way?"

"Actually, I've already made a friend," Ochimaru smiled proudly, gesturing to his smartphone that was buzzing noisily away on the table. Youta had been sending him a message every few minutes, each one only asking him if he had passed the exam. "He just started talking to me out of the blue at the train station, but he's a really friendly person."

"Really…?" his mother asked with surprising eagerness. Her sincere curiosity caused the hostile atmosphere that was still lingering in the air to disappear entirely. She pushed the Koushujin documents aside and scooted across the leather couch to sit beside him. He couldn't help but shy away from the sudden contact as the tassels of her purple dressing-gown brushed against his bare arm. He had always hated when people invaded his personal bubble without warning, even if they were family. "What's his name?"

"Youta Kaneyama," he replied, diverting his anxious gaze down to the carpet. He could feel the pair of parental, prying eyes boring a hole right through him. "He seemed overconfident and brash at first, but he actually noticed that I was nervous once we got to Koushujin and tried to calm me down. I probably wouldn't have passed the exam if it wasn't for his help."

"Kaneyama…" his dad repeated, scratching at his stubbly chin thoughtfully. "I know that I've heard that name somewhere. I think his dad might've worked on my car before."

"Most of the other applicants turned out to be nice as well," Ochimaru continued, deciding not to mention the serpentine girl and how he came close to returning home with puncture marks on his neck from her fangs. "Even though we had to fight amongst ourselves to gather enough points, nobody that I saw was too mean-spirited. We treated it like a competition."

"It says here that you 'trapped a girl in a bubble'… what's that all about?" his father asked, having somehow snatched the analysis paper from the stack on the table when he was staring down at the carpet. "I had no idea that you could do such a thing with your Quirk. One of the teachers even said it could be used for safely disabling villains. That's amazing!"

"Oh yeah, I realised that if I coat my fingers in soap, I can blow a huge bubble," Ochimaru grinned, thinking back to when Youta encouraged him to use his Quirk more creatively. "Fumiyo, a girl in the exam, couldn't burst it even though she has the body of a weightlifter."

"Have you taken a read of this, Kaori?" his father laughed excitedly, showing a surprising amount of enthusiasm for someone who disliked the very concept of heroes and combat. "Ochimaru, you really should've said that you were at the top of the recommendation list!"

"I must have missed that letter," his mother said, reaching over to grab at the crumpled piece of paper. He knew that the teacher's words would convince them better than he ever could. Koushujin may have included that summary more for the parents than the applicants.

"With that ability, you could actually defend yourself if you were ever in danger," his father theorised, and Ochimaru almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. His parents had always treated him like he was still a naïve, defenceless seven-year-old, but now that was staring to change, slowly but surely. "Your Quirk really is like one a pro hero would have."

"Training to be a hero will make me even better at defending myself," Ochimaru pleaded, exhausted by the lengthy argument. He wondered if any other applicants had trouble with convincing their guardians to let them attend Koushujin. Giving their children permission to leave home and start a new chapter of their life in a dormitory can't be easy for any parent. "If I become a pro hero, I'll make the world a safer place for everyone to live in, so maybe one day, you both won't have to constantly worry about villain attacks anymore."

"Okay, we'll sign the papers," his mother sighed, setting the analysis letter down gently. She reached for a discarded pen that was almost out of ink and went to work jotting down her signature on any document with a dotted line. It seemed like she was finally convinced by her husband's sensible words and his final, desperate plea for permission. "Just promise me that you'll do your best to stay safe during your training and remember that you can always come back home if things become too difficult. We'll always be here for you."

"I promise," Ochimaru sniffed, feeling incredibly guilty for shouting out in rage earlier. In the end, his parents just wanted what was best for him. This whole problem stemmed from their overprotective love, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He originally thought they didn't care about him becoming a hero, but it was the opposite. They cared far too much.

"You should hurry and reply to your persistent friend," his father sighed, adjusting his tight, professional tie with one hand and signing documents with the other. Ochimaru was lucky that he could stay at home for the rest of the day working on his costume application, whereas his dad still had to endure a long, hellish day at work. "The buzzing is driving me crazy."

Ochimaru collected all of the letters that didn't require his parent's signature and his vibrating phone, whispering an exasperated thanks as he retreated to the safety of his bedroom. Gratitude was something he always found difficult to put into words, so maybe he would spend his evening writing a letter to his mum and dad to make up for the argument. They definitely didn't deserve to be shouted at, no matter how angry he felt. He scrolled through the long list of messages from Youta to distract himself from the guilt, careful not to trip on any of the discarded shoes or boxes that lined the darkened hallway.

* * *

 _ **y_kaneyama**_ _:_ you awake yet?

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ cmon the results have arrived

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ i bet you've failed

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ just kidding, but send me a msg as soon as you can

 _ **y_kaneyama**_ _:_ not waiting for your slow ass any longer, opening without you

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ i fuckin passed! got a bunch of sappy quotes from some of the teachers

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ they said that giving you the golden egg was "befitting of a hero" or some shit

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ see, i knew it was a good idea

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ hello?

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ take your time, i'll spam all day if i have to

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ ochi

 _ **y_kaneyama**_ _:_ ochi

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ ochi

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ ochi

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ ochi

 _ **ochi_maru:**_ im here im here jeez

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ took you long enough :p

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ whats the verdict?

 _ **ochi_maru:**_ passed! got one of the highest scores

 _ **y_kaneyama**_ _:_ dude sweet! same here

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ 270

 _ **ochi_maru:**_ 300

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ wow, i should've kept that egg for myself

 _ **y_kaneyama**_ _:_ anyway, since we both passed, I've been thinking

 _ **ochi_maru:**_ yeah?

 _ **y_kaneyama:**_ u wanna room 2gether?

* * *

Ochimaru nearly dropped his phone as soon as the last message appeared.


	5. Leaving the Nest

Ochimaru groaned as he dragged his suitcase across Koushujin's winding stonework pathways, sweat dripping from his brow as he slaved away under the morning sun. Two small bags were slung over both of his shoulders, and a huge rucksack strapped to his back made him look like an encumbered turtle. The handle of the suitcase he was hauling across the ground almost slipped out of his sweaty grasp as he reached the edge of the forest. He really should've asked his parents to help him move into the dorms, even if it would have been embarrassing. He rubbed at his flushed cheek, attempting to remove his mother's persistent red lipstick. He tried to duck out of one of her rib-crushing hugs at the train station only to receive a kiss instead. He hoped that nobody at the dorms would notice the crimson mark.

Letting one of his bags slip haphazardly from his shoulder and fall onto the faint, dirty trail, he struggled to decipher Koushujin's complicated map on his smartphone in the harsh light. The first-year dormitories were tucked safely away in a dense forest, apparently to provide a more natural, relaxed environment for the students, but as Ochimaru began a treacherous adventure through thorns and shrubbery, he was anything but soothed. It felt like he was travelling to an isolated campsite far from civilisation, not the dorms of a hero school. His new, light-blue sneakers had already been stained with a layer of sodden mud and arid dust.

His heart pounded away inside his chest in a mixture of exhaustion and apprehension. He still couldn't believe that he was attending Koushujin Institute, even after everything had been finalised and he received his official certificate of acceptance. Those couple weeks of waiting for the signed documents to be verified had passed by in a flash, and now he was suddenly starting his first term at one of the top ten hero schools in the whole country. Well, it was tenth on that particular list, but it was still an impressive feat nonetheless.

Eventually, after what seemed like many hours of fighting through branches and getting startled by birds, he reached a trio of quaint, humble buildings nestled in a circle of oak trees that must have been the dorms, one building for each year. He paused for a moment to catch his breath and try to figure out which one was meant for the first years. He didn't want to walk into the third-year dorm only to be met with an audience of older, unrecognisable faces. Stumbling out of the forest, he noticed a crowd of students lounging on the steps outside the leftmost building, blocking the large set of shiny, double-doors leading inside. Thankfully, a large head of wild, purple hair belonging to his friend was amongst them. As he approached with a hunched back, Youta's overzealous voice and laugh became clear.

"There you are, finally!" he greeted. "I was starting to think you'd never make it here!"

"Carrying all this by myself was definitely a mistake," Ochimaru sighed, throwing his heavy luggage onto the spotless, wooden steps without a care for the delicate contents inside. His arms and shoulders were aching far too much for him to be mindful of his hero figurines.

"You should've texted me back at the station," Youta laughed, patting harshly at the vacant space on the stairs beside him. He was sitting beside a couple of bright-haired boys that Ochimaru didn't recognise. "I would've helped you carry some of it if you asked nicely."

"Nah, I needed the exercise," Ochimaru grinned, happy to be reunited with the boy who helped him so much in the exam. They had been texting back and forth every day since then, but both had been far too busy with packing and designing costumes to meet properly. Since it was decided they would share a room in the dorm together, they would probably be seeing far _too_ much of each other from now on. At least he wasn't rooming with a total stranger.

"Well, hurry up and sit down!" Youta yelled, pulling him onto the steps excitedly. All of the noise had attracted a few stares from the students. "I've gotta introduce these guys to you."

Ochimaru turned his attention to the two boys now that they had been mentioned. They were sitting rather close together on the wooden steps, and it took him a moment to realise that they had their arms wrapped around each other happily. One of the boys had long, golden-brown hair tied back in a small ponytail and was relatively short, while the other boy was taller, with sunken, tired eyes and wispy, baby-blue hair. They both seemed content despite the heat. He couldn't remember seeing either of them from the entrance exam, but they had clearly done well if they both passed. He wondered what both of their Quirks were.

"Okay, so, the little one is Kou Hachimoto," Youta began, gesturing to the smaller boy who gave a wide, toothy smile. His round, pale cheeks and small nose were peppered with tiny, brown freckles. "And the tall, stoned-looking guy is his boyfriend, Rei Setsuki."

"What ever happened to showing respect for your senpai?" Rei lamented, his tone little more than a deep, slow drawl. He nudged a snickering Youta gently in the side with his free arm. Ochimaru noticed that the veins on the boy's arms were unusually bright and prominent, like they were emitting a vivid light under his pale skin. The strange, fluorescent blue vessels pulsated rhythmically with the boy's relaxed heartbeat. It had to be a side-effect of his Quirk. "Back in junior high you'd already be bowing at me."

"Oh yeah, these two were in the year above mine," Youta explained. Upon closer inspection, Rei did look slightly older than everyone else here. Kou, however, was so small and baby-faced that he still could have passed for a twelve-year-old. Ochimaru wondered why they both didn't attend a hero school directly after graduation. "I actually had no idea they were going to Koushujin this year though. I almost got a heart-attack seeing them both here!"

"Well, we were planning to enter the hero course earlier," Kou interjected with a jovial smile, his voice bubbly and high-pitched. Even though he would never say it out loud, Ochimaru was relieved to find someone at the school who was shorter than him. "But I was the only one who managed to pass last year's exam. Rei just barely failed by a couple points, so I decided to wait and take the exam again with him this year, so we could both go to Koushujin together. Thankfully, he passed with no problems the second time 'round!"

"Wow, that's really nice of you," Ochimaru chuckled, finding the boy's eager smile infectious. Rei's lips had been curved into a disapproving frown at the mention of his failure, but the corners of his mouth eventually wavered until he smirked uncontrollably at his partner. Kou's carefree, kind nature and ability to make others smile definitely made him a suitable hero candidate. "I'm Ochimaru Kawadatsu, by the way. It's good to meet you both."

"Youta-kun's told us a lot about you!" Kou exclaimed, bouncing merrily on the dorm steps like a child who had just been told they were going to Disneyland. Rei remained composed and motionless despite the erratic shaking as if was a common occurrence. The two students gave off completely different energies even though they seemed to be a stable couple. Maybe they helped to balance each other out. "He was giving us exam details before you arrived!"

"That reminds me, I was just getting to the part where I shattered the statue," Youta began with his signature cocky grin, but before he could continue proudly telling his story, he was rudely interrupted by a female voice that echoed across the forest clearing. Nearby birds squawked in alarm and abandoned their nests. Youta was the first to react, his pleased smirk quickly fading to a scowl as the dormitory steps were bathed in shadow.

"Hey, blondie! I want a few words with you about the exam!"

Ochimaru whirled around in fear, only to be met with the skinny, exposed waist of a girl that once again, he didn't recognise. She towered over him menacingly, and as he quickly scrambled to his feet amidst the interested murmurs of the other students, he noticed her spotless, annoyed face. She was wearing a pair of large, expensive sunglasses that obscured her eyes, but even he could immediately tell that she was angry at him. Her eyebrows furrowed in rage as she reached forward and poked him aggressively in the chest with a sharp, manicured finger. Ochimaru watched his own startled reflection in the dark lenses as he shrunk away from the intimidating student. Why did Koushujin have so many scary girls?

"Are you t-talking to me?" he finally managed to stutter. He had no idea who this girl was or why she had a reason to be annoyed with him in the first place. From what he could remember, the only girls he encountered in the entrance exam were the nervous girl with light-green skin, the terrifying one with the serpentine Quirk, and Fumiyo.

"Uh, yeah, obviously!" she yelled, sliding her thick sunglasses down the bridge of her nose to reveal bright, ocean-blue eyes. Ochimaru stared at the girl in shock, mesmerised by her cobalt irises that shimmered and warped like tiny puddles of water. The colour in her eyes seemed to have a mind of its own, slowly morphing and bubbling like a lava lamp. He had never seen eyes move so fluidly before. "Who else sitting here has blonde hair like yours? Duh!"

Before he could anxiously think of a response, another girl came running towards them at a slow, shaky pace. Thankfully, it was someone he actually recognised. The nervous-looking girl with green skin that had grown the oak tree in the exam jogged over anxiously. She grasped tightly at the bottom of her pink, flowing summer dress as she almost tripped over the fabric and tumbled headfirst across the grass. The same sunhat she had been wearing in the exam bobbed loosely atop her bright-green hair as she finally came to a stop, trying to stifle her panicked, laboured breathing. Her brown eyes were wide in terror.

"Shimizu, r-really, it's okay, I changed my mind, you don't have to talk to him!" she pleaded, waving her bare arms towards the loud girl like she was trying to distract her attention away from him. Her quivering voice made her sound close to tears. He was speechless.

"No, _you_ should apologise to Hanako!" the girl ordered, pointing at him with such ferocity that her finger nearly pierced into his cheek. "She almost failed the exam 'cuz of you!"

"And why should he do that?" Youta challenged, leaping deftly from the highest step and landing on the ground beside an astounded Ochimaru. His casual expression had narrowed into something far more serious as he puffed up his chest at the two girls. "I dunno if you were listening to Urekana-sensei, but she said that stealing from others was allowed. Encouraged, even. If you can't handle that, maybe you're not cut out for the hero course."

"What'd you say, turniphead?" Shimizu barked, responding far more to Youta's abrasive words than her apparent friend's quiet, peaceful protests. "You wanna say that again?"

"No, Youta, she's kinda right," Ochimaru admitted, attempting to diffuse the situation before a huge fight broke out at the dormitories on their first ever day of living together. Conflict would no doubt be a common occurrence at Koushujin. "I did feel really guilty about stealing the silver egg after she had worked so hard to retrieve it. I know it's not a good excuse, but I felt like I had no other choice since my Quirk isn't all that great. Sorry."

"Honestly, it's fine," Hanako smiled softly, adjusting her large, skewed sunhat. "I get it."

"Your plant growth Quirk is really impressive though," Ochimaru complimented, feeling his face grow hotter as his gaze fell to the girl's brown sandals. He always had a problem with maintaining eye contact, especially with cute girls. "I probably deserved a faceful of cactus needles after just taking your egg like that."

"I w-wasn't actually planning on throwing those seeds at anyone, but you made me panic," Hanako admitted, arguably having more trouble with eye contact than he was. Her stuttering voice was so meek and timid that it was almost inaudible. She fidgeted nervously with the hem of her summer dress as she bowed her head submissively in apology. "I'm glad that you managed to d-dodge it, because I would've felt really bad for hurting you."

"If any of you boys ever do anything to hurt Hanako again, you'll have me to deal with!" Shimizu announced, hiding her bright, flowing eyes behind the sunglasses, apparently satisfied with his sincere apology. She swivelled on her heel and stomped swiftly away from the dormitory, her blue crop top and skimpy denim shorts prompting hoots and crude jeers from another group of boys. The tentacled applicant from the exam was among them.

Ochimaru had been so frightened that he hadn't noticed the girl's breath-taking hair. Her gelatinous locks were oddly translucent and wavy, with what looked to be sparkling water exuding from her scalp instead of regular hair. The fluid was a deep, sea-blue, but the tips of her rotund hairstyle were a frothy white. It reminded Ochimaru of the foam you'd see in the ocean at the beach. The single, membranous mass of hair reached down to her back and bounced as she strutted away. The sloshing water was contained in a stretchy, outer layer like a jellyfish. Ochimaru couldn't be sure if Shimizu's hair related to her Quirk or if it was just an aesthetic mutation passed down by her parents. Whatever it was, it was beautiful.

"I'm so s-sorry about her, Hanako whimpered pitifully. "We've been best friends since we were really little… so she tries to protect me no matter where we go."

"Well, she'll definitely make things more interesting around here," Youta sighed heavily, letting his strong, cocky demeanour slowly return. It was like he was putting on a mask.

"But she's a good person, I swear!" she replied shakily, balling her small, green hands into ineffectual fists. She looked more like a novice gardener, not a pro hero candidate. "She just lets her emotions get the b-better of her sometimes. I'll go try to calm her down a bit."

With that, Hanako ran away before her noticeable anxiety got any worse. She almost collided with a group of laughing girls who were gathered around a row of long picnic tables with wide parasols, and her fervent apologies didn't stop until she reached Shimizu at the other end of the peaceful dormitory glade. Students of all different sizes were scattered around the quiet forest haven, but it was obvious to notice the inexperienced first years as most of them stood around awkwardly, some even sitting by their lonesome. Ochimaru was incredibly thankful to have found a friend like Youta, who he could latch onto for support.

"Hanako seems really nice!" Kou beamed after the nervous girl had flailed far away out of earshot. His innocent tone helped to clear the atmosphere after Youta's rant with Shimizu.

"You've been saying that about everyone here…" Rei commented under his steady breath. Even though his remark was scathing, he failed to hide a sweet smile as he squeezed Kou's hand lovingly. The relaxed boy's neon veins started to brighten and thrum at the connection.

"Ochi-kun, you should probably pack away your stuff before the induction ceremony starts," Youta recommended, kneeling down to his scattered luggage and lifting the largest rucksack that contained the hero figurines over his powerful, muscled shoulders. Carrying around heavy objects had to be second nature to the athletic boy by now. "I've still gotta unpack all my things as well. C'mon, I'll help you carry all this shit through the dorm."

"You make it look so effortless," Ochimaru laughed breathlessly as he struggled to lift the other, lighter bags with his aching, tired arms. He wondered how much physical strength and fitness mattered in the hero course. Maybe he should have applied for a gym membership.

"Since my Quirk can turn pretty much anything into a piece of sweet workout equipment, I've had a bunch of practice," Youta explained, bowing his head respectfully towards and Rei and Kou who had settled back down onto the dormitory steps together. Ochimaru had no clue how both of them could be so relaxed on the first day of attending a new, prestigious school.

"It was nice meeting you, Ochimaru!" Kou called happily before the double doors leading inside the dorms slammed noisily behind them. He always seemed to be full of positivity.

* * *

Koushujin's first year dormitory was surprisingly silent and devoid of life. Ochimaru had arrived relatively later than everyone else due to getting lost in the forest, and it looked like all of the other students had already moved in, or at least dropped all of their luggage off in their rooms. They walked briskly through a dark, thin hallway that had a myriad of jacket pegs hammered into the cream walls and a long, metallic rack used to store shoes. Ochimaru wiped his new, muddied sneakers on the dark green doormat that stretched the whole length of the stained entryway. That was one major drawback of having a building so far out in the woods. Even though it was their first day of living in the dorms, it was already filthy with muck, tiny twigs and dead leaves. He wondered if Koushujin employed any janitors.

The spacious living room was significantly less dirty than the entrance, thankfully. Ochimaru stopped to marvel at its impressive size as they both removed their shoes in the wide doorway. The whole place was ornately furnished, with huge, old-fashioned armchairs and vintage, seafoam-green couches that reminded him of his grandmother's house. The only modern thing in the entire room was the towering, plasma-screen television in the corner. It sat behind a long, varnished coffee table that looked like a refurbished cafeteria bench. As the two boys skidded gleefully across the polished floor in their socks, Ochimaru noticed a sliding glass door that lead outside to small courtyard and garden shrouded by forest trees. They ignored all the other sights for now as Youta made a determined beeline towards the dorm rooms. The boys' section of the building was hidden away on the left, nearest the well-stocked kitchen, convenient for midnight snacking.

Youta bashed against the heavy door leading to the boys' bedrooms with reckless abandon. If he acted like this in a new environment, Ochimaru could only wonder what he was like in his own home. Their shared dorm room was 101, the very first in the long row. Most of the other doors had already been closed and locked for safety, but some, including theirs, were still ajar as other students finished their business inside. Ochimaru thought about nosily perusing the glossy nameplates and peeking through doorways to learn who their neighbours were, but he eventually decided against it. They would be introduced to each other soon enough anyway. He just wanted to unload all of his luggage.

Finally, they entered their tiny, sparsely furnished hovel that would be his new safe haven for the first year of studying at Koushujin. It wasn't much smaller than his bedroom back home, with the only obvious different being the two single beds squeezed into opposite sides of the room. Strangely, one of the beds was raised far higher off of the dark-blue carpet on shoddy-looking supports. It was like a bunk bed, except the bed that should have been on the bottom was replaced with a wooden desk and a rickety office chair. Ochimaru could only assume that it was to save space. The room felt cramped already. The other bed looked far more normal, with the accompanying desk situated below the window in the centre of the back wall. Youta's scattered luggage had already been thrown onto the higher, more dangerous bed.

"First come first served!" Youta cheered, setting down the hefty rucksack gently next to the remaining, shorter bed. It was strange to see him handling something with care. He then ran towards the bunk bed and leapt onto the shaky ladder, climbing up the creaking steps with astounding speed. Ochimaru was surprised the whole thing didn't immediately topple over.

"I'd probably roll out of it in my sleep anyway," he admitted, giggling as Youta's head emerged from the tall structure upside-down, his wild, plum-coloured hair dangling down towards the barren school desk. "This bed seems way safer compared to that death-trap."

"Suit yourself," Youta remarked, sticking out his tongue childishly as his face turned red. "I'm looking forward to jumping off the top of this every morning to wake you up early."

"Please don't," Ochimaru winced. "I don't want noise complaints from the other guys."

"Maybe only on weekends then," he winked, his head suddenly disappearing from view once again as he shuffled towards his bags. Ochimaru heard the quick sound of a suitcase zipper, and then watched in horror as various knickknacks and articles of clothing still on their coat-hangers rained down messily onto the dirty, dark-blue carpet. "No promises, though."

Ochimaru sighed as he started unpacking as well, although in a much more careful, composed manner. He spent almost thirty minutes positioning his old pro hero figurines on the shelf above his bed before he even started hanging up all of his clothes. He would stop and have a casual chat with Youta every now and then, and before he knew it, almost everything on his side of the room had been neatly put away in the wardrobe or in plastic boxes under his bed. He was looking forward to decorating and buying some new furniture with the money his parents gave him. The musty green curtains, stained bedsheets, broken yellow lamp and wobbly office chair would be the first to go. He fell back onto the squeaky bed with a proud sigh of accomplishment as he browsed social media on his smartphone. It actually felt refreshing to do some normal, household things that his stifling parents always insisted on doing for him. Maybe independence wasn't such a bad, scary thing after all.

A few minutes later, he happened to spot something out the corner of his eye. A short message had been carved into the corner of the old, wooden bedframe. Curiosity got the better of him, and he threw his charging phone down on to the bed and crawled towards the strange writing. He had just realised that countless other students had lived in this room for their first year at Koushujin in the past, and it seemed like a particularly brave boy had left his signature for future tenants to discover. He pulled his scratchy, uncomfortable pillow aside to uncover the full message, only to be slightly underwhelmed at what he found.

- _ **SHINJI WAS HERE-**_

The person hadn't even left a year or anything, so he couldn't tell how old it was. Whoever he was, the guy clearly didn't care about destroying school property. Ochimaru had the brilliant idea of covering up the unsightly, meaningless graffiti with a well-placed sticky note, but as he reached over to grab one from his cluttered desk, he heard a loud knock at the door that shocked him out of his relaxed stupor. Youta's head popped over the edge of the bunk bed curiously at the sudden noise.

A strange-looking boy clad in all-black clothing was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame nonchalantly, his fist still raised. The first thing that Ochimaru noticed was his terrifying, black eyes. Unlike Shimizu, it wasn't just his irises that were different. This boy's entire sclerae were pitch-black like an absolute, shadowy void. There was no white to be seen. It seemed like mutated eyes were a common theme with the Koushujin students. He couldn't tell where the ominous boy was looking as his eyes had been dyed an inky black. Awkward silence spread throughout the room as they both were at a loss for words.

"Hello, I just wanted to come and apologise for punching you during the entrance exam," the boy bowed, his quiet voice muffled by a weird, black, surgical mask. Ochimaru often used to see older people wearing them on buses and trains when he was younger, but it had been many years since he had seen a mask like that. He had heard that some people wore them for fashion, while others wore them to avoid catching colds and other illnesses.

"Uh…" Ochimaru replied dumbly, his mind drawing a blank. He definitely would've remembered seeing eyes like those in the exam, but all he could do was shake his head.

"I was inside the shadow that attacked you," he replied, the surgical mask shuffling gently as he talked. The conversation would be so much easier if he just took it off. "Remember?"

He knew that those edgy, black clothes and pale arms looked familiar. This was the boy who attempted to steal his eggs by possessing his own shadow. This was the user of the Quirk that had forced him to retreat because it was so powerful. It was only natural that a person with such a strong Transformation Quirk had passed the entrance exam. Ochimaru wondered just how many applicants he encountered would turn out to be students here.

"Yeah, I remember now," Ochimaru replied with a short sigh of relief. "Don't feel guilty about it though, it didn't hurt that much. What happened in the exam, stays in the exam."

"Well put," the boy breathed, the corners of his perplexing, dark eyes tightening in what must have been a wide, thankful smile. "My name's Takumi. I'm staying in the room next to you."

Ochimaru left his warm seat on the bed and walked over to the hesitant boy, extending a smooth, shaking hand in acceptance with a slight, respectful bow. He wasn't exactly sure when he was supposed to offer such a formal handshake, but this felt like an appropriate moment. He also felt guilty about tackling Takumi to the ground after his basket was knocked over, so he wanted to be as polite and apologetic as possible. He was actually surprised at himself for taking charge of the conversation. Usually, he felt really nervous talking to so many new strangers, but it was getting easier each time.

To Ochimaru's utter dismay, Takumi suddenly flinched at his hand as if he was expecting it to suddenly give him an electric shock. The boy fidgeted nervously with his black facemask as he swiftly took a few steps backwards in fear. Alien, emotionless eyes as wide as dinnerplates, he stared at the outstretched palm in abject terror. Ochimaru's cheeks immediately flushed in total embarrassment as he awkwardly brought his arm back to his side and bowed even further in a hurried apology. He could hear Youta's amused, barely-stifled snickering coming from the bunk bed in the back of the room.

"Sorry, no offense, it's just that I, uh, really, really hate germs," Takumi stammered neurotically, one of his darkened eyes twitching as he pulled the surgical mask further up his face. He had turned frighteningly pale, like someone who was just about to vomit.

It was only then that Ochimaru realised the boy was wearing some kind of utility belt like an overprepared tourist or a veteran camper. Those sorts of belts were actually a very common piece of professional hero equipment, but he had never seen a regular civilian wearing one. Perhaps he was getting a head start on his training. A small bottle of hand sanitiser was strapped to the front of his waist for easy access, and it was almost empty, only a small spattering of faint, green fluid left inside. Takumi himself had a strong, sterile scent of alcohol and bleach that reminded Ochimaru of a hospital. It stung at his nostrils.

"To be honest, Ochi-kun's soap Quirk probably makes him one of the cleanest guys here," Youta laughed, wiping a tickled tear from his eye and jumping down from the top of the dangerous, rickety bunk bed. "But man, going in for the handshake, what are you, fifty?"

"I dunno, I thought that's what you were supposed to do!" Ochimaru squealed, tempted to hidden behind a confident Youta and let him finish the rest of the conversation that he had promptly ruined. He should always just let his friend do all the talking.

"No need to worry, I've become accustomed to awkward introductions," Takumi began after a deep breath to compose himself. His bony hands curled around the bottle of sanitiser for comfort, colour returning to his face. "Usually, I try to inform others that I'm germophobic beforehand, but I wasn't expecting you to be so… forward with your approach."

"Anyhow, it's nice to meet you, Takumi-kun!" Youta chirped, somehow managing to steer the conversation back on track after that debacle. "We're gonna be seeing a lot of each other since we're neighbours. I'll make sure not to touch any of your stuff when I'm in your room."

"Thank you," Takumi chuckled. He still looked pretty apprehensive, but his slim shoulders slackened somewhat as he laughed. "That would make my life here much easier."

"I'm Youta, and the charming one over there is Ochimaru," Youta grinned. Ochimaru was far too embarrassed to open his mouth, but he gave a soft smile at the brief mention of his name. "If you need any help unpacking or navigating the dorms, we'd both be happy to help you."

"I will keep that in mind," Takumi responded. He acted very restrained and reserved, which was scarily similar to Jun. Maybe they would get along well with each other. "That reminds me, I must finish disinfecting everything in my room before the induction ceremony begins."

"Your roommate must love you already," Youta joked. "There'll be no cleaning left for him."

To both of their surprise, Takumi actually began to pull down his surgical mask. He looked nervous to be taking it off, but it must have been getting uncomfortable for him. Ochimaru expected the lower half of his face to be scarred or mutated, but his small nose and pursed lips were completely normal. That was until, he gave them a happy smile and a long, pleased laugh. The boy's teeth were completely black, like a fountain pen had exploded inside his mouth and dyed them with dark ink. Ochimaru stared at them in fascination. Whatever should have been white on his body was the exact opposite. Even the tips of his trimmed, immaculate fingernails were shadowy. The facemask eventually settled on his thin neck.

"I hope he likes the smell of bleach," Takumi laughed, covering his stained mouth with the back of his hand as he diverted his gaze to another dorm room. "Well, duty calls, I'm afraid."

Ochimaru could finally hide his blushing face with his hands and groan in embarrassment as Takumi disappeared out of sight with a stiff wave. Why did the first person he offered a handshake to have to be cartoonishly germophobic? It was like something out of a horrible, cheesy sitcom. He dejectedly shuffled back to his new, smaller bed and slumped across the hard mattress, wishing that he could just wrap himself up in a cocoon of blankets and ignore the entrance ceremony. All of his energy had been drained away. Right when he was starting to get more confident with social interaction, he suddenly never wanted to talk with another person again. His ability to act like a normal person had reached a sad, new low.

"Aw, cheer up!" Youta encouraged. His loud, confident voice had been muffled as Ochimaru took hold of a pillow and stressfully pressed it against his head. The boy's carefree nature was actually starting to irritate him a little. "Takumi-kun even said not to worry about it."

"That still doesn't change how awkward and stupid I am," Ochimaru whined into the fabric, still unconvinced. His father always used to tell him how important first impressions were.

"Tell you what," Youta began, the corner of Ochimaru's bed forcefully sinking down as his friend assumedly took a pensive seat next to him. "How about we take a walk to get your mind off of it before the ceremony starts? I've got some old boxes and other stuff that I need to throw away in the bins 'round the back of the building. I could use some company~"

"… fine," Ochimaru sniffled after a long pause. Now that he had time to think clearly, there was no point in moping around by himself. Youta was trying his best to make him feel better, so the least he could do was accept his offer. He disliked having to rely on his friend so much already but moving out of his childhood home had been really overwhelming for him.

* * *

When the two boys reached the spacious common room once again, it was significantly more alive and active than before. Many new students were lounging around on the couches, chatting with each other and getting through respectful introductions. A sleepy-looking Rei and an excited Kou were talking with Jun and Fumiyo, and Ochimaru was relieved that they had both passed the entrance exam. It was nice to see some familiar faces around the dorm. Youta was carrying so many cardboard boxes that he couldn't even see where he was going, so Ochimaru had to guide him through the living room to make sure he didn't crash into anyone and bury them alive. Even if the room was large, it was still crowded.

As if his day couldn't get any more stressful, he just happened to notice the serpentine girl on his way out of the front door. She was standing aggressively next to one of the kitchen countertops, tapping her painted fingernails rapidly on the smooth surface as her flexible neck swayed to an intense, invisible rhythm. She looked like a snake being charmed. Her leather jacket, dark-green skirt and ripped tights just screamed 'stay away from me'. She seemed to be glaring daggers at another girl from across the room, who had big, floppy ears and long, fluffy legs. Thankfully, she didn't notice him as he crept past.

"Of course, she passed…" Ochimaru whispered under his breath as he exited the dormitory.

The two boys quickly reached the huge dumpsters at the back of the building just as Youta's flimsy cardboard tower toppled out of his strong hands and fell noisily to the ground. Ochimaru sighed, wondering why the prideful boy didn't just let him carry a couple of them. As they both kneeled down to pick up the flattened boxes, the first thing that Ochimaru noticed was the pungent scent of cigarette smoke. Trails of the strong, wispy vapour assaulted his nostrils as he wafted a hand in front of his face. He had always hated the smell of tobacco. It brought back a flood of painful memories about his grandfather who was a heavy smoker.

Ochimaru looked up in disgust only to find an older man leaning against the wall of the first-year dorms, rudely ignoring the blatant 'NO SMOKING' sign directly above him. His sunken eyes were closed in deep relaxation as he took another long draw of the thin cigarette held in his dirty, scarred fingers. Youta apparently hadn't noticed the man as he darted across the ground, collecting the rest of the fallen boxes before Ochimaru had a chance to speak. Finally, the mysterious man's attention turned to the both of them as he exhaled slowly.

Through a thick cloud of smoke, Ochimaru noticed the man's strange arms. His iconic, black jacket had been completely ripped at the forearms, exposing skin that was wrinkled and pink with melted scar tissue. Greasy, black hair with faint streaks of silver obscured most of his face as it got tangled amongst his unkempt, scraggly beard. Ochimaru couldn't believe what he was seeing. Although the man certainly looked different, he had studied and doodled that outfit and those war-torn arms a million times, using his treasured hero figurine as a simple reference. Ochimaru's jaw hung agape in total shock as he stared up at the dishevelled man. A dim ember from his glowing cigarette fluttered gently to the ground next to his feet.

"Cinder…?" was all he managed to whisper.


	6. Induction of Asagao Class

"Oh, for Christ's sake…" the intimidating hero fumed, his gruff tone barely managing to conceal a layer of embarrassed panic at being caught smoking near a school. He casually flicked the glowing cigarette against the ground with a regretful sigh and harshly stamped out the embers with a merciless black boot. He waved a composed, scarred hand above his greasy hair to clear out the lingering smoke. "What the hell are you doing back here?"

"We could ask you exactly the same thing y'know," Youta replied unrelentingly, hurling the stack of crushed boxes inside one of the large, empty dumpsters. They narrowly missed one of the most famous pro heroes in all of Japan as they clattered against the dirty, metallic receptacle. "But, I think it's appropriate to start with – just who do you think you are, talking to us like that?"

"Answering a question with another question," Cinder mumbled, eyes narrowing spitefully towards the foolhardy student. "You should start being more respectful to your teachers. Most of us here at Koushujin don't take too kindly to that kind of impolite language."

"Isn't it a teacher's job to answer any questions their students might have?" Youta grinned, apparently enjoying the challenge with no consideration of the dire consequences. Ochimaru would have stopped his friend from saying anything else to upset the intimidating hero, but he was completely frozen in a mixture of awe and terror. The brave man from his childhood was almost unrecognisable.

"Well, you can start by wiping that smirk off of your face and calling me Kemushiba-sensei," the teacher commanded. Youta scowled as he realised that the man wasn't in the mood to play any of his games. "You might know me better as Cinder – the Smouldering Ash Hero, although I've been officially retired for a few years. Now, I'm only known as the guardian of disrespectful first years."

"Oh yeah, I do sorta remember watching you beat up villains a lot on TV when I was younger," Youta acknowledged, surprisingly offering the annoyed man a short, apologetic bow for his rude words. "Your fights were always amazingly brutal, sensei. I'd even stay up late sometimes to try and catch them uncensored."

"Even your compliments are somehow disrespectful," Cinder sighed, failing to fight back an amused smile as it spread across his lips. "And what about your quiet friend? Is he just gonna stay on his hands and knees down there in the dirt?"

It took a few painstaking moments before Ochimaru realised that the pro hero was referring to him. He stood up wordlessly and bowed far more intensely than Youta had, still confused by Cinder's ragged, almost pitiful appearance. The strict teacher standing in front of him had once selflessly saved his life, but now he looked like a homeless vagrant. Despite insisting that he was retired, he still clung onto his old hero costume that had been stained and torn with overuse, like he hadn't worn anything else in years. His muscled body was far more injured than Ochimaru remembered, with lethal burn scars creeping all the way up to his shoulders like an elaborate tattoo. They were nearly too grotesque to examine.

"Now that I've gotten a better look, those bright-pink eyes are starting to look familiar…" Cinder began, scratching absentmindedly at his scraggly, grey beard as he leaned forward to examine Ochimaru's reddening face. "Have we met somewhere before?"

"You actually s-saved me from being abducted at a shopping centre when I was seven," Ochimaru stuttered, his wandering eyes drawn to a deep scar on the hero's shoulder, revealed by the lacerated uniform. It must have been the bullet wound. "A villain managed to shoot at you before escaping in a car."

"Hang on a minute, Ochi-kun…" Youta hesitated, the remainder of his smile fading as his face scrunched up in total disbelief. "You never told me you were almost freakin' abducted!"

"Ochimaru? You're the one who kept sending me those letters, right?" Cinder asked, his dull eyes suddenly lighting up with recognition. It felt strange to hear his own name uttered by someone of such acclaim. "It's good to see you're on the path of a hero, although I hope that I wasn't the one who inspired you. Letting that villain get away was an amateur mistake."

"Kemushiba-sensei, I was one of the few kids to survive an abduction attempt unscathed," Ochimaru smiled awkwardly, gaze dropping to the crushed cigarette. Even if the older man looked and acted different, he was still the embodiment of heroism. He was still his idol. "And it's all thanks to your selfless work as a hero. That's what inspired me."

"Fate works in mysterious ways," Cinder exhaled distantly, placing a protective, gnarled hand on Ochimaru's shoulder. He couldn't help but wrinkle his button-nose at the scent of pungent tobacco smoke. "Perhaps you were saved because the world needs you. Don't go giving all the praise to an old man who couldn't even catch a single villain with a gun."

"A new generation of professional heroes are needed now more than ever, right?" Youta interjected loudly, cracking his thick, bruised knuckles. He failed to notice the tender reunion taking place in front of him. "Is that why you retired to become a teacher here?"

"Partly," Cinder replied, avoiding the brazen student's prying gaze. His eyes fell sadly to the frail, melted skin barely covering his trembling arms. "Teaching kids is about the only thing I can do nowadays. The drawbacks to my Quirk were just far too severe to keep working."

"Even if you can't work anymore, I still look forward to learning from you, sensei," Ochimaru stated formally. It had always been his dream to interact with Cinder again, although he never could have predicted it would be under these circumstances. He would be training under the hero for the next three years at Koushujin. "You specialise solely in villain apprehension, and that's the kind of pro hero I want to become in the future."

"You definitely know your stuff," Cinder laughed, his intimidating demeanour disappearing. The man who had comforted him all those years ago still existed under that layer of grime. "I always enjoyed getting your little letters that would rate my hero missions. I was actually disappointed when you stopped sending them. You had a good, creative head on your shoulders even at such a young age. I'm sure you'll become a great hero candidate here."

"Wow, I had no idea you were such a fanboy!" Youta teased. Fans of heroes were incredibly common, especially among young kids, which lead to the belief that the hobby was childish. It was no surprise that his friend was mocking him for it. "That explains the big bubble technique during the entrance exam. You've been a pro hero fanatic your whole life, huh?"

"I suspect you'll also make a fine hero, Kaneyama-san," Cinder added, turning to a surprised Youta. The two boys were basically the stars of the Koushujin entrance exam. "Overload is a destructive Quirk, but definitely impressive. Perfect for villain apprehension."

"Don't worry, I'll try my best not to destroy any important school property," Youta grinned cheekily in reply. He even had no problems joking around with a famous professional hero.

"I'll be holding you to that," Cinder grimaced, leading Ochimaru to believe that such events happened often at the hero school. "Anyway, the induction ceremony is starting in a few minutes, so you two should go back and join the other students. I'll be there soon to escort you all to the assembly hall."

"It was a nice surprise seeing you here, Kemushiba-sensei," Ochimaru smiled radiantly, waving at his new teacher as Youta quickly dragged him away from the dumpsters.

"Like I said earlier, fate works in mysterious ways," Cinder replied, guiltily fishing a crumpled packet of cheap cigarettes out of his tattered costume's pocket. "And also, could you not tell any of the other teachers that I've been smoking back here? I've been trying to quit for a couple years now and I won't hear the end of it if they find out."

* * *

Koushujin's fabled induction ceremony was far quieter than Ochimaru had expected. The first-years were the only students in attendance, herded into the sweltering assembly hall. He finally had a chance to see all of his classmates grouped together for the very first time. Nineteen other pupils stood silently in a respectful line, some fidgeting uncomfortably due to the heat and others unmoving like wax sculptures. Youta was the only person in the entire line making any noise, whistling a carefree tune as he tapped his feet impatiently. More importantly, were the crowd of teachers seated around a polished podium that was emblazoned with the school's bold, yellow emblem. There looked to be around ten or so.

"Hey, see that woman up there?" a familiar voice asked in a hushed, jovial murmur. Ochimaru attempted to look towards the boy without moving his head even an inch, in fear of being reprimanded by Cinder for chatting disrespectfully before the teacher's speech. He immediately noticed the student's platinum-blond pompadour and the scent of hairspray. Strangely, it was the boy who had kissed him in the exam. "The one that looks like a bird?"

"Yeah…?" Ochimaru whispered stealthily, following the boy's pointed finger towards the female teacher sitting at the very edge of the group. Her winged arms were adorned with dark-grey, elaborate feathers and she had a sharp, keratinous beak. "What about her?"

"What d'you think she eats on her lunch break – worms?" the student grinned, holding back a pleased giggle as he waited for a reaction. Ochimaru was too dumbfounded to offer a reply.

Terrifyingly, the avian teacher's circular head cocked curiously to one side as she focused her glowing, glassy eyes towards the snickering boy. She looked like a grizzled owl, only a few seconds away from swooping down and snatching her helpless prey without a sound. Even from across the entirety of the cavernous assembly hall, she had managed to hear the boy's barely-audible muttering. His stifled laughs were promptly cut short as his eyes widened in surprise, only followed by an awkward clearing of his throat before he fell deathly silent once more. Ochimaru shivered under the owlish woman's intense gaze.

"Daisuke-san, maybe pick your targets a little better next time, yeah?" a boy with frizzy, black hair goaded, being the only other person in earshot to find the poor joke humorous.

Sensing the eccentric crowd's restlessness, a kindly, middle-aged woman with violet hair cleared her throat politely and rose from the very centre of the teacher's semi-circle. The other faculty members quietened down as she took to the tall podium, scanning over the new faces with parental pride, like a ship captain surveying a calm ocean. She had a stout, motherly figure, and graced the students with a wrinkled, sweet-looking smile. Ochimaru struggled to see her face behind a lengthy, bulbous microphone that she gave a soft tap.

"Firstly, before all other matters, I would like to give you all an incredibly warm welcome to Koushujin Hero Institute," she beamed, gripping at the microphone with tickled excitement. The entire crowd couldn't resist smiling back. "My name is Ayumi Mifune, and I am the school's headmistress. Although, that word can have some unpleasant connotations, so I would be very grateful if you could view me as nothing more than another teacher here."

When reading through his acceptance letter, Ochimaru had imagined its writer to be a strict, uptight leader who ruled over the hero school with an iron fist, not unlike the stereotypical headmistresses that Ayumi herself was alluding to. Instead, the woman standing on stage looked more like a tender grandmother who would gladly offer you a plate of freshly-baked cookies. In fact, Misato seemed like a more appropriate headmistress, with her ponytail, business suit and glasses. Ayumi's violet hair and magenta cardigan gave her an inoffensive aura, and she still wore that wide, delighted smile as she continued.

"Here at Koushujin, we abide by three core tenants – endurance, tolerance, and balance. These three simple terms encapsulate everything that I believe a hero candidate should strive towards. Endurance is the strength to continue onwards, and the acceptance that failure is a natural part of life and your studies here. It is to be welcomed, not feared. Tolerance is the most important, as we hold respect for all people within these walls, no matter their background or beliefs. We have a zero-tolerance policy for bullying and discrimination, but from my first look at you all, I feel assured we will have no problems. Lastly, is balance. Training to be a professional hero is difficult, as society can often have quite harsh standards, which I'm sure most of you are aware of already. As such, we offer physical, mental and meditative tutoring to ensure you build a diverse skillset as a hero."

The crowd was enraptured by Ayumi's eloquent words. She was not reading from a script or pausing to collect her thoughts. Instead, she was taking precious time to maintain eye-contact with her students. The entire speech felt deeply personal, like she was putting her very heart and soul into every word. Through it all, her prideful smile never wavered. Ochimaru now understood why she was Koushujin's headmistress. Even though he barely knew the woman, he could tell that she cared for him. Cared far more than anyone else here. Her maternal appearance was beginning to make more sense.

"Following on from the third tenant," Ayumi continued, taking a quick sip of cold water. Every movement she took was gentle, fluid and controlled. "To ensure that you acclimate to what future life will be like as a professional hero, we allow unrestricted Quirk use within the perimeter of the institute. You are now free to practice with your unique abilities to your heart's content, so long as this does not occur beyond the safety of these walls. Recreational Quirk use is vital to becoming comfortable with your own strengths and limits."

"I'm gonna love it here," Youta whispered ecstatically, as Ayumi gladly paused for the astounded crowd to voice their reactions. "This almost feels like a dream, doesn't it?"

"Koushujin has built up quite the positive reputation around Kagoshima, so I dearly hope that none of you shatter that trust by freely using your Quirk in public," Ayumi warned, her soft, optimistic tone only making her words more ominous. "In order to uphold our great reputation, the Koushujin uniform must be worn by all students during weekdays, especially when travelling away from the institute. The uniforms that you ordered previously will be personally delivered to the dormitory today, along with your class timetable for the year."

"There always has to be a catch…" Youta sighed, clearly displeased at having to wear the gaudy Koushujin uniform. Ochimaru was actually looking forward to the yellow blazer.

"Hero lessons will promptly start early tomorrow morning, overseen by Kemushiba-sensei and Torigoe-sensei," Ayumi informed, gesturing towards the dishevelled man with the stained beard and the tall, ruffled avian woman that Daisuke had unwittingly upset earlier. "And now, to close the ceremony with a bang, we have Koushujin's head boy here to talk with you all about his experiences and to give his advice about studying to be a pro hero. Please give a round of applause to our bright, wonderful third-year – Shinji Natsuteru!"

Ochimaru perked up at the sound of the oddly familiar name. He barely had time to remember where he had seen it before a slender boy bounded across the wobbling stage, cheered on by a gaggle of older students who had been waiting silently in the wings for this one moment. It was exciting to see hero candidates who looked older and more experienced. Shinji himself was easily over six feet tall. His muscular, pale arms were dotted with dark freckles and his orange hair sat in staunch, bouncy curls. The third-year was literally overflowing with enthusiasm, as his body emanated a faint, yellow glow like a streetlamp that had just been recently activated. Ochimaru knew that it had to be related to his Quirk.

"Welcome, young heroes!" he shouted with an eager grin, striking a powerful pose next to the podium as the mysterious light surrounding his lithe body only grew more intense.

Shinji was clad in what looked to be his dazzling hero costume. It was fashioned from a material that reflected light, making it even more difficult to look directly at the head boy. Even though Ochimaru's eyes started to water due to the blinding light, he noticed a lightbulb insignia plastered on the boy's chest and a flowing, orange cape reminiscent of heroes from an older generation. Despite still being a student, he already looked like a pro.

"My name's Shinji!" he bellowed. "Or, if you wanna really flatter me, you can call me by my hero name – Lightbright! How many of you guys are excited to get to pick your own alias?"

Silence, save for a few people meekly raising their hands. The head boy's pure enthusiasm was making Ochimaru cringe, and by the looks on his classmates' faces, he wasn't alone. Shinji wasn't fazed by the awkward atmosphere in the slightest, letting out a hearty, carefree laugh that reminded him of All Might. It wouldn't have been surprising if the boy had learned to emulate the number one hero in order to give himself more confidence.

"Hero training isn't easy!" Shinji simply stated, suddenly pulling at the neck of his luminescent hero costume to reveal a deep, morbid scar. It shockingly ran from the centre of his thin neck all the way down to his sternum, branching outwards like a thickened vein. "You're guaranteed to pick up a few of these babies along the way, but you'll also learn to be really proud of them. Each one of them holds a lesson, no matter how small they might be!"

"Not the most reassuring start to a speech," Daisuke muttered, causing a few boys to smirk.

"Scars aside, training to be a hero is one of the most rewarding experiences in the world," Shinji continued, adopting a more serious tone as he readjusted the collar of his costume. "You'll make friends for life here at Koushujin and facing the hardships on the course will only bring you closer together as classmates. Trust me, every single person in my class has saved my life on at least one occasion! Sometimes even more than that!"

His words prompted another cacophony of cheers and hollers from the aforementioned third-years, their intensity indicative of the intense bond that they all shared. One spectacled girl with long, black hair seemed to be a particular fan of Shinji's enthusiasm. Ochimaru wondered if he would ever reach that level of friendship with Youta, or the other students. He doubted that he would ever befriend the serpentine girl or laugh at Daisuke's bad jokes. In times of danger, would the strangers beside him risk their lives to save him?

"Thank you, thank you," Shinji chuckled, bowing gracefully towards his classmates. "Hopefully, all of you here shall be doing more saving and less getting saved when you start your hero internships! Rescuing your first civilian by yourself is something that you'll never forget, trust me. Learning to use your Quirk properly to save the lives of others makes you feel indestructible! I've finally found my purpose in life here at Koushujin, and I'm sure that all of you will feel the same way in a couple years. That's really all I wanted to say, to be honest. Better to keep things short and sweet so nobody gets bored."

"Thank you for those passionate words, Shinji-kun," Ayumi announced, clasping the twinkling boy gently on the back. The pride she felt towards him was highly noticeable. "Would you mind ending off this ceremony with our institute's motto and a lightshow?"

"It'd be an honour, Mifune-sensei," Shinji replied happily. "If you take anything away from your three years here at Koushujin, let it be these three, simple words – we all belong!"

The humming, lustrous light surrounding the head boy suddenly flooded inside of his chest. With a deep breath of air that puffed out his freckled cheeks, he lifted his muscular arms high above his ginger hair like he was trying to touch the ceiling of the hall. Ever so slowly, a brilliant orb of phosphorescence floated up from his hands, roughly the size of a basketball. It was as if the boy had summoned a miniature sun to shine down upon the amazed crowd of students. Uncontrollable, gleaming light spilled forth from his once-blue eyes as his limber form convulsed rapidly, barely able to move the very photons themselves. Without warning, the sphere of light exploded noiselessly into a shower of weightless, glimmering shards. They rained atop the first-years like confetti, ushering them into a new life of heroism.

"Following that excellent demonstration of Quirk prowess, I officially crown you twenty as our newest group of first-year students – referred to as Asagao Class!" Ayumi cheered, auburn eyes glistening with the beginnings of thrilled tears. "You are now dismissed!"

The supernatural light produced by Shinji's Quirk was a mystical sight. Pondering about the head boy's vague abilities, Ochimaru grasped at a sliver of the shining substance, only to have it slip swiftly through his clumsy fingers and melt into the laminated floorboards. After a few more silent seconds, there was no trace that the fleeting lights had ever existed. Shinji was no longer aflame with a faint glow. He must have exhausted his power source. Koushujin's finest example struck a final, practiced pose before sauntering offstage with a whirl of his orange cape. He returned to a cavalcade of squeals and high-fives from his peers.

"The guy's just a glorified nightlight…" Youta sighed. "What's with all those groupies?"

"You didn't strike me as the jealous type," Ochimaru said with a taunting chuckle, joining the crowd of energised students that were spilling out of the assembly hall's double-doors.

"Oh please," Youta grinned, popping the sore joints in his knuckles for the umpteenth time. It couldn't have been healthy. "Overload is way cooler. I'll have my own fans in no time."

* * *

Koushujin's head boy had also inspired similar feelings in the other members of the newly-appointed Asagao Class. The pristine courtyard of the sprawling school was alive with renewed conversation as the hero candidates traipsed leisurely back to their new dorms. Ochimaru found it overwhelming to be amongst so many diverse, confident personalities, so he stuck near the back of the considerable group with the more nervous, antisocial students. He didn't want to worry about someone randomly striking up a conversation with him like Daisuke had done earlier. Although, this also placed him dangerously close to the serpent. To try and take his mind off of the unsettling girl, he eavesdropped on a brewing argument.

"Shinji-san's Quirk didn't seem very impressive to me," sneered a boy with thick-rimmed glasses and fluorescent orange hair. Ochimaru noticed a strange, glowing symbol on the palm of his hand as he adjusted his wide spectacles. "Simply being able to manipulate light seems lacklustre in comparison to what some of us here are capable of accomplishing."

"Appearances can be very deceiving," Jun responded calmly in his usual, monotonous tone. "Especially for Emitters like Shinji-san. Perhaps we have only seen a small fraction of his Quirk's true capabilities. Since he is the new head boy, his potential must be exceptional."

"True," the boy conceded. "Even if you saw it in action, I doubt any of you would be able to explain the complex qualities of my Quirk. Emitters have an advantage in that regard."

"In most regards," a girl with fluffy, rabbit-like ears corrected through a set of buckteeth. Her lengthy, thick legs caused her to walk with an astounding spring in her step as she marched across the cobblestone path. "Emitters like you have it way too easy in general."

"Oh?" the boy coaxed snobbishly. "I doubt you'd easily repeat yourself if you knew just how many long hours have went into honing my Quirk. Mutants are born with innate control."

"Why don't you save the big talk for the sparring sessions, Firecrotch?" Shimizu berated, placing a steady hand onto the rabbit-girl's toned shoulder as she looked ready to kick the privileged boy in the throat. "Or have we already forgot Mifune-sensei's tolerance speech?"

"Just keep in mind that most of us Mutants have been through stuff you couldn't imagine," the lagomorphic girl snapped, finally quieting the snide, glasses-wearing student. Ochimaru noticed that Jun nodded his head in subtle agreement, and the serpentine girl even let out a begrudging hiss of acknowledgement. "Be more thankful your Quirk isn't very invasive."

"Well, I know who I'm sparring against first," Youta whispered excitedly. Thankfully, nobody else could hear his words as the atmosphere lightened to something more cheerful. "Even from here, I can already tell that the bunny girl's legs are no joke. A strong kick from her could easily break your arm. I've always admired the physical strength of Mutants!"

"Knock yourself out," Ochimaru scoffed. "I'm staying far away from her during practice."

As the abrasive class finally reached the forested dormitories, they noticed a stocky man wearing a pair of muddied dungarees standing outside the entrance, with a battered shovel slung over his broad shoulders. It had a broken, splintered hilt that indicated the tool had seen years of constant labour. The man certainly didn't look like a teacher, more of a hireling. He wiped at his sweat-laden brow with a callused hand which left a faint, dirty trail in its wake. The man was either brave or foolish to be doing physical labour in such oppressive weather. He straightened his back with a groan once he caught sight of the class.

"Hey kids, I'm just finishin' up some yardwork here," he drawled, stabbing the buckled shovel into the recently-mowed grass beside the building's wooden steps. "I'm Koushujin's groundskeeper, so if y'all find any problems with your dorms, give me a holler, alright?"

"You're the one t-tending to all of these trees and flowers?" Hanako asked innocently, gripping the front of her floppy sunhat and pulling it down to hide her nervous, green face. Her bottom lip trembled pitifully as she spoke. "This place is… very beautiful."

"Thanks kindly, miss," the groundskeeper coughed, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. Flecks of earth rained from his wiry, black hair. "Plants and me get along somethin' fierce."

"Are you the one responsible for the dormitory's security?" a meek boy with brown hair and thin-framed glasses asked. Ochimaru remembered him as the one who kept asking questions before the entrance exam. "I know that most other hero schools have advanced gates for keeping villains and the media out, but I haven't seen anything like that at Koushujin."

"Boy, I'm glad you asked!" the man chortled heartily, clasping the frail student on the back with enough strength to almost knock him down to his knees. "My name's Kenta Shingen, and I'm the one in charge of the school's defences. My Quirk creates a barrier around buildings that stops all sorts of nasty people from gettin' inside, so don't you worry!"

"A barrier?" the snooty boy with neon-orange hair repeated, intrigued. "How strong is it?"

"Here, it'll be easier if I show you," Kenta responded, leaving his broken shovel imbedded deep into the ground as he hobbled across the dorm's staircase. Ochimaru couldn't be sure whether it was the stairs or the man's knees that were creaking. "Blink and you'll miss it!"

True to his word, the groundskeeper performed a series of complex hand gestures in rapid succession that looked similar to sign language. After only a couple of seconds, a translucent blanket of turquoise energy emanated from his weathered, clasped hands and began to wash over the ornate dormitory building. Like a firehose, the supernatural rope kept unspooling from the man's hands and wrapping around the perimeter of the house. Soon, the protective helix faded away into nothingness, leaving only a blue, lucent doorway. The oak threshold of the dorm had been covered gently with a mystical sheen, like a portal to a different realm.

"The only people that can enter my barriers are ones that I allow through physical contact," Kenta clarified, taking a moment to catch his frantic breath as he collapsed against the staircase's railing. "Think of it like one o' them fingerprint scanning thingumajigs."

"So, what'd happen if we touched the door without getting your permission?" Youta wondered, already climbing up the stairs to find out for himself. "Would it just stay locked?"

"Woah there, sonny!" Kenta warned, pulling the overconfident student back down the steps by the scruff of his neck. "The barrier would give you a big shock, like an electric fence."

"Awesome!" Youta exclaimed, barely deterred by the threat. Ochimaru knew the boy well enough to understand that the only thing holding him back from testing the barrier was the groundskeeper's powerful grip. "What I wouldn't give to see a paparazzi get zapped…"

"Actually, the reason I'm even here today is to allow you kids to pass through my barriers," Kenta said warmly, breath rasping in his throat. He slowly descended down the rickety steps with a determined Youta still caught in his grasp. "Either a handshake or a high-five will do mighty fine, so if y'all could form a nice line, that'd make my job a whole lot easier!"

So, under the searing gaze of the Kagoshima sun, the next few minutes were spent getting awkwardly authorised by the friendly groundskeeper. Whenever contact was made, the older man's beaten hands would flash with the same blue energy seen earlier in the barrier. Most of the male students chose to give Kenta a casual high-five, whereas the girls opted to give him a more respectful handshake. Takumi looked like he was about to faint at the prospect of having to touch a person covered in so much dirt and sweat. He barely brushed against the groundskeeper's muddied hand with trembling fingers before whipping it back.

When it came to Ochimaru's turn, he decided to try for another nervous handshake in an attempt to redeem himself for the awful one he had given Takumi earlier. Kenta's huge, spade-like hand dwarfed his tiny, smooth fingers and felt exactly like old, tough sandpaper. The groundskeeper shook his entire arm vigorously. Ochimaru worried that it would be torn completely from its socket. Suddenly, an indescribable warmth swept its way across his skin, causing his invisible, blond hair to stand on end and tingle. And then, it was over.

The last person to give a handshake was a girl with beautiful, silver hair and smart glasses. Ochimaru remembered her from the very end of the entrance exam, although her left arm was no longer wrapped in a medical sling. His parents had mentioned something about a girl who had broken her arm, and he wondered if the girl in front of him was that victim. Ochimaru wished to know the events that preceded her injury, but he would likely never get an answer. Youta almost sustained serious damage in the sudden fall from the pedestal, so it must have been a similar situation. While giving Kenta an adept handshake with her restored arm, she stared at the broken shovel laying at his feet with a serious expression.

"Shingen-sensei, I can't help but notice that your shovel has definitely seen better days…" she began, with a cultured, foreign accent that Ochimaru couldn't identify. The girl looked to be Japanese, however her regal voice lacked most of the instinctive Japanese intonation, as if she had lived abroad for most of her life. "My Quirk can restore damaged objects to their perfect, original state, so would you mind if I tried to fix it? It'll look good as new."

"Please miss, you can drop the 'sensei' - I'm just the groundskeeper!" Kenta laughed, his humble words bringing a smile to the faces of most students still watching. His unrefined nature was strangely endearing, like a scruffy, stray dog who still managed to retain their cuteness. "And go ahead! I've been meaning to replace that danged thing for a while, so you'd be savin' me some yen by givin' it a good ol' renovation!"

Wordlessly, the silver-haired girl kneeled beside the dilapidated shovel and wrapped her thin hands around the splintered handle. After closing her icy-blue eyes and exhaling deeply, the broken shovel was basked in a wavering, golden sheen. Slowly, the harsh dents on the shovel's spade popped back into place with a metallic clank. A layer of caked dirt slipped from the handle and dispersed into the grass as the shovel vibrated softly. Amazingly, splits in the wooden hilt were filled in with fresh lumber that seemingly came out of nowhere until all of the dangerous cracks were sealed. Scuffs on the plastic tip of the handle were smoothed out until the material was gleaming and spotless. Before long, the tool had been completely transformed. Like the girl had said, it was as good as new.

"Well, would you look at that!" Kenta cried in disbelief, taking the restored shovel into his strong, dirty hands as the girl stood up again, dusting off her grey leggings pridefully. "Miss, you could put me out of a job with that Quirk! There'll be nothin' left for me to fix!"

"The handle might not be as sturdy as before," the girl admitted. "Since I can't restore pieces of wood that were missing entirely, I had to shave some away from further down."

"Still, it's amazing for only a few seconds o' work!" Kenta laughed, bending the new shovel over his knee to test its current strength. "Thanks much! Can I have your name, miss?"

"Sakane," the girl bowed stiffly. The gesture seemed less practiced and natural than most Ochimaru had seen. The girl likely hadn't been in Japan for very long. "Naoko Sakane."

"You'll fit right in here at Koushujin," Kenta encouraged. "Speakin' o' that, I delivered all your school uniforms and timetables earlier. They're sittin' on the living room table."

"So, you actually do a lot more than just looking after the school, right?" Youta questioned, face grim at the realisation he'd have to wear the garish uniform soon.

"Nah, I just take care o' all the borin' stuff that the other teachers don't wanna waste their time with… no disrespect intended!" Kenta laughed through a hoarse cough. "I gotta renew all the barriers each and every mornin', so we'll get tired of seein' each other soon enough."

"It was nice meeting you, Kenta-san!" Kou beamed, tugging at Rei's lime-green sleeve as the two were the first to pass through the dorm's new, mystical threshold. "Have a good day!"

"Best o' luck with your first hero lesson tomorrow," Kenta replied with a wave. "Koushujin is the very best hero school in my humble opinion, so I hope y'all enjoy your time here."

Everyone muttered their thanks and goodbyes as they ascended the wooden steps one after another, phasing through the translucent barrier as if it didn't even exist. It certainly quelled Ochimaru's worry of safety in the dormitory, since any intruder would be blasted with electricity if they even prodded the light-blue shield. Even though hero schools were one of the most protected areas in the world and bastions of heroism, that very fact made them irresistible to villains. There wasn't a better way to instil fear in the public than successfully launching an attack on a hero institute, but with Kenta's barrier, the students never had to worry about such an awful event. His parents would be happy to hear that.

As Ochimaru passed through the barrier, he couldn't help but feel a poignant excitement settle in his chest. Waiting for him inside was his school uniform and timetable that would dictate his routine for the next year. Along with the rest of Asagao Class, he had been crowned as a unique hero candidate, with the potential for future success and great fame. The nineteen other students nonchalantly entering the dorm and removing their shoes amidst chatter would be his allies, rivals, friends and enemies for the next three years.

The first of which would all start to reveal themselves in tomorrow's eventful hero lesson.


End file.
